Shattered Hearts
by SneverusSnapers
Summary: Kara Jaymond may have won the hunger games but the desperate struggle for her life is far from over. When forced to mentor condemned tributes Kara stumbles upon something she wishes she hasn't; and I'm not talking about a certain someone's six-pack.
1. I Never Give Up

**The moment I even mentioned the word 'sequel' you were onto me like a pack of hyenas and no way could I back down then! I hope this is good and hope even more that you enjoy it alongside me. This won't kick-start immediately, it will take time. But that doesn't matter, what matters is that this here is a sequel to Gnawing Hunger and that this here is hopefully going to be a success like Gnawing Hunger was. So I hope you enjoy yourselves! I, SneverusSnapers, hereby present the sequel to Gnawing Hunger... Shattered Hearts!**

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><p><strong><span>Shattered Hearts<span>**

_I look at myself in the mirror this morning and notice a difference from yesterday. My hair is still golden and luscious, my face still unreachable and powerful, I still look the same. There is no visible change to me, not since I won the hunger games, unlike my father who wore down at every stunt I pulled, every person I killed. They still haunt me at night, in nightmares. But during the day I am safe, during the day I am protected. My father has changed considerably since I was reaped. But me? No. I do not look different but I act different, I am always alert, ready. I am no longer so stuck up, I have begun to treasure human life and the lesson that Vivian taught me was that I should be kind to others. It doesn't mean I'm always nice, I mean, I'm human. But I try. But really that is beside the point. I have changed since yesterday, though I am not doing anything differently. I am just the same old me, the same old Kara Jaymond. But I am sixteen._

_My reflection still stares back and I pick up my ring from my bedside table. It is three rings welded together. It may look like nothing but it means more to me than anything else in the world. The centre ring was my mothers; it is a deep blue sapphire which twinkles like my eyes, resting on a single gold loop. Below it is a pearl, attached to a gold loop, just as my sapphire was. I promised June I'd give it to her mother and I did. But her mother didn't want it and I saw her chuck it into the street as soon as I handed it to her. So I went back and scrabbled around in the dirt until I found it and convinced the local blacksmith to weld them together to make a double ring._

_Then I examine the third and final part of this ring. This was given to me by Precious Good and is Anvike Tall's ring, it was his district token. He gave it to her but she couldn't bear the burden so she gave it to me. I was going to put it on her grave but then I remembered her telling me that she didn't want it, that it haunted her, so I attached the silver ring onto mine, the heart shaped diamond winking at me from the top. It could have looked a lot prettier and with my new found wealth and my home in victor's village but no, I kept it as it is, I've had enough of the Capitol enhancing the way I look, yet alone changing my life._

_But as I know it's my birthday I also know one other thing, the reaping is in a week. The thought almost paralyses me. The reaping, just under one year ago my life was turned upside down when I was reaped into the hunger games alongside, alongside... Vivian._

_I don't want to think about it, I just don't. But the faces grin at me from inside my mind, Dral, Vivian, June, Precious. Dead, dead, DEAD! I clasp my head and fall back onto my bed, my thoughts confused. They're dead, all dead, I mustn't blame myself though, I've had enough of blaming myself. It was the Capitol that did that to them, not me, the Capitol._

_I gulp back tears and stagger downstairs, gripping the banister. I am still wearing my pajamas when I get down to the bottom of the stairs and become face to face with dad. I smile a warm, coaxing smile. Dad. His health hasn't been looking too great but that shouldn't be a problem, he'll be fine. He's always fine. But dad doesn't return the smile and I look at him, puzzled._

"_Dad, what's wrong?" I ask but then freeze when I see the door to his study behind him left open slightly ajar and the man sitting on the desk, smiling at us as if we were just small ants he is examining, petty and feeble and easy to crush. I look up and dad and he gives me a scared look and I slowly walk past him and knock onto the door of the study. If Snow's here it can't be too good, if Snow's here the tiny sanction I have built up around myself and my father will be flattened, badly._

"_Enter." A voice rasps, his voice, president Snow's voice. I shiver at the maliciousness and enter, only realizing when I get in that I am only in my pajamas. I stare awkwardly at Snow who is tapping a pen on my father's table, creating a steady beat. He beckons for me to sit down and reluctantly I draw back the chair opposite and place myself on it, remaining alert and careful. Snow looks up from the table and his eyes lock with mine. I don't blink or even flinch and I can smell the sweet scent of roses mingled with blood from his mouth. I don't even want to know what the blood is from; I just want to know why Snow is here, in both me and my father's house. His eyes break from mine and he spends a minute looking at me, his eyes scanning me as a jaguar would do to its prey, then he silently gets up and heads towards the door. But I can't let him go. What is he doing here?_

"_Why did you come here?" I ask and Snow looks at me and smiles, a bitter, cold, reluctant smile which sends shivers of fear down my spine and makes me freeze, as if paralysed, in the seat in my own house, scared out of my wits. So I just stay still, his malicious smile breaking my thoughts. Then his mouth twists out of a smile and grimaces at me, then lets out a few words which stick to my consciousness, creating fear and terror to say the least._

"_To see you Kara Jaymond. To see you."_

I wake up gasping for air, my lungs screaming. The nightmare has been haunting me for days, but the really scary thing about it is that it is true and happened just over a week ago. I still don't know what he meant and I still don't understand, I don't think I ever will. But that's what the Capitol does, twists your mind and distorts your consciousness until you finally don't understand what is going on, until you finally give up. Or so you think. But the Capitol never let you give up; they never let you accept defeat. They like the struggle; they try to keep you fighting just for the point of squishing you. They like a challenge. And I tell you what; if they try anything, anything at all, I'll give them a challenge they will never forget. Because I'm Kara Jaymond from district eight, I'm sixteen years old, I won the hunger games last year and it is the reapings today. And I never, ever, give up.


	2. Are You Ready?

**I'd like to give a _special _mention to my first reviewer for Shattered Hearts, 'nemetb 34'. And on her request I give you the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it and review loads, even if it is a bit of a filler, do not fear, the reapings are in the next chapter!**

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><p>Breakfast was brief just like the rest of my life. I don't really live now, the memory of what has happened, what I have done, still haunts me alongside the faces of people I know are dead, I know are dead because I killed them. It's strange, I'm sure I'm mad, I keep on seeing them, lurking in alleyways, crossing the street away from me. Just shadows, echoes, out of the corner of my eye. Yet they're there. I know they're there. Leo, or Leon as I found he was called, the boy from district three, comes first, followed by the boy from seven who is called Alan String, sorry, <em>was <em>called Alan. Then I see Daphne and then I see her, the girl from six, Martha-Rose Fall, still smiling, forever smiling. I can't escape them, none of them. Especially not Dral or Precious, those two still hold a place in my heart, a special place, a place to cherish. But I killed them; alongside others I loved and still love. A part of me was gained in those games, the same part that was lost. But I will not crouch down and weep as pain overrides my body, I will not sit and scream as the past becomes the present, no, I will stay and fight, patiently, silently. Yes, I will fight and I will not be afraid to do so.

"You better go now Kara." My father says solemnly and I nod and pick up my travel bag that is barely full since I will get everything I need in the Capitol anyway. But I keep my face silent and I nod formally to my father. I freeze, I'm about to undergo it all again, at least I could give him a proper goodbye. I let out a defeated puff of air and lunge at him, wrapping my arms around his frail body. He smiles, a pure and contented smile, a smile of pure love and happiness, a smile to me. I never had one of smiles from him since I got out of the hunger games just under a year ago, when I saw him and he saw me and I leapt off the stage in the middle of my interview. Then I felt truly happy, safe, but I am about to go straight back into the lion's den again just under a year later and this time there is no Dral or Vivian, no Precious or Anvike. This time there is just me, the lone survivor; the victor.

But as I step out of the door of my house I smile warmly at the people I am greeted by. I may be a victor, but these two also are. Lumina and Hercules grin at me from outside my front door. I chuckle and pretend to struggle under the heavy weight of my suitcase which may be light but is an annoying nuisance. Like planned Hercules hefts it out of my grip and holds it for me. I put on a brave smile towards them both.

"You look ready!" I say to the both of them and Lumina smiles as I gesture towards the massive backpack Hercules has weighting down his back and another suitcase alongside my travel bag, "Whose backpack is that?"

"Mine." Lumina says, slightly guiltily as she smiles cheekily at Hercules, "I just don't want to even touch anything associated with, well, you know."

"The Capitol." I say simply but when Lumina glances around scared I smile reassuringly at her, "Don't worry, no-one's watching."

Lumina seems to take my word as the truth and nods quietly before tugging both mine and Hercules' arms and leading us to the reapings. What a trio we make, the bulky wall of muscle who seems sarcastic and scary at first but is actually the opposite, Hercules, then Lumina, seemingly shy and nervous but actually quite outgoing when she opens up and then me, blonde, beautiful and living a total lie. I snigger to myself in my head, me really do make an odd trio. But all of us are victors and proud to be, except maybe cut off that last statement. I don't think any of us are proud of what we are, of what we've done, but we have to at least act like it.

In this past year having Lumina and Hercules as my only neighbours I've actually quite enjoyed their company. I've learnt a lot about them, beneath Hercules' squashed face, bulging muscles and almost shaved head he actually has quite a personality, he has a family too, not that I would have thought it. Not an extensive one, just his mother who he lives with. His father died of some sort of illness while he was in the games, apparently, and his mother, despite being under sixty, is bed ridden due to the same illness. No-one's sure what it is, they just hope it's not contagious or runs in the family, either way Hercules is doomed. But that won't be the case, that can't be the case. Anyway, he limits his time with her just in case it is contagious and she has hardly any visitors in any case.

Lumina's short brown hair tied back out of her eyes with a plain cream ribbon and simple dress code hide an almost young girl at heart. Apparently she missed out of her childhood when she got chucked out on the streets by her family since they couldn't feed her after her father became ill. She learnt to fend for herself, but forfeited her innocence of childhood when she had to grow up quickly to survive; I guess that's what let her win the hunger games, alongside the steely determination that is hidden inside her. When she won the hunger games her family welcomed her back with open arms but she didn't want them, they hadn't been there for her and they cut her out of the family. The twelve years she spent on the streets from when she was five was a huge difference to the victor's village but she settled in nicely.

"You were victor how many years ago?" I ask and Lumina smiles inwardly.

"Five years, though it feels like a lifetime the way I have moved on." She says.

"My ten years have felt far from distant, I can still remember the games like it was yesterday." Hercules says solemnly, his face looking slightly contorted in memory.

"You were in the games when you were seventeen and you, when you were eighteen, right?" I ask Lumina and Hercules in turn.

"Yes." They both respond simultaneously.

"So that makes you twenty-two," I say pointing to Lumina and then swivel my finger over to Hercules, "and you twenty-eight."

They both look at each other and then Hercules smiles slightly, "Yes, I guess so, so we've only got five years difference."

"Only five years," I scoff, "In five years I'll be just one year younger than Lumina."

"You make me sound ancient." Lumina jokes and then punches my arm playfully, "Well, anyway, I see you're kitted up for the occasion."

I assume she's talking about my outfit. "Ally." I explain simply. Ally designed me a selection of outfits for any public televised display and I have put one of them on. It disgusts me to slip back into Clara's skin but I guess if I stop looking horrendous now then everyone will know I've been having them on and it was all only an angle for my interviews to get me sponsors. Hercules stifles a laugh.

"Oi! You're not the one who has to wear this thing!" I yell and he looks down sheepishly.

My outfit, well, costume would be a better word, is something of my nightmares, something from the hunger games times. It's a see-through jumpsuit with only sparkles keeping my dignity intact. I still can't see how I let Ally get away with this. I haven't talked to him properly since, well, you know, but he has tried apologising. I wouldn't give him the chance to try and do it again so I have kept a civil tongue and just kept him as a background crew in my mind, no-one important. That reminds me, I will see him again later today. And Zap, I'll see Zap too. I wonder if we'll still be friends or if the year has broken us up, I sometimes wonder about him, think what he's doing now. Of course I'll be able to find out later today, but that doesn't stop me guessing.

I look at Lumina and Hercules and can see what style their stylists have given them and even how they've somehow kept it up, in Hercules' case, maybe even improved it. Hercules was going for tough, you can tell by his basic rope belt and his bulky leather jacket swung uselessly over a simple cotton shirt and ripped black trousers. Lumina seems to have been going for something or other, maybe mysterious or likeable, but probably a survivor. Her short brown bob is held back by a simple cream strip of fabric and Lumina's dress is a short, almost ripped looking, plain patchwork, almost like a quilt, and she has camouflage tights on underneath, I never even knew you could get camouflage tights. Ah well, if they couldn't get them her designer would have made them.

"Are you ready?" Lumina says, breaking the silence as I see we've reached the town square. Hercules and I nod and we both grip each one of Lumina's hands and then step forward almost nervously to take our places on the stage.


	3. To Volunteer Or Not to Volunteer

**Read, enjoy, etc.**

**Isis - Right. Where to start? Well, first of all, thank you so much for reviewing, you probably wrote more then me there. Secondly of all, I wrote this before you reviewed so nothing you said will have been taken into account. Ok - now for the excuses! I am REALLY bad at typos, I mean really bad, and the problem is that I just don't stop them. I know, I know, it's not a good excuse at all, but I honestly stop them too late. My STUPID spell check on my computer told me when i put in 'realised' that it wasn't a word - and I had it on English setting! That is FAR from spiffing, old fruit. You said I make mistakes a bit like a young writer? Well I AM a young writer, very young in fact, and Gnawing Hunger was my first proper length thing. I'm glad you told me all that feedback and to be perfectly honest I felt a bit upset that you had managed to draw out more mistakes then what I have written - but I'm fine with it and I totally understand where you're coming from and am really thankful for all your feedback, from the sounds of it you seem to have published a book maybe, or is that just me? Well anyway, yes, kara is too perfect, and the 'luscious' thing was ridiculous (I was thinking more along the lines of '2' or the way you describe grass as luscious). This was the first time I have ever really done a beautiful character and I WANTED her to be perfect, looking wise anyway. I guess when I write I dream at the same time and things get across too well, characters anyway. I have made Kara bossy and maybe more acceptant towards the end of it, but really, I do not want Kara to be perfect. She's human. Just wondering - have you actually read 'Gnawing Hunger' or did you just skip straight to 'Shattered Hearts'? Because many things are portrayed there. It starts with her looking in the mirror because that was how Gnawing Hunger starts, and I wanted to portray how little she has changed on the outside, yet so much on the inside, if you know what I mean? I use commas a lot? I know; I know! It's a bad habit and I'll try to stop, and thanks for the exclamation mark thing, that was really useful. I actually barely look back after I've written, I just try to pour emotion into my work. I would be telling all of this to you in a PM but as far as I know you don't have an account so I'm posting it here in hope that you'll read it! So yes, I'm pretty pathetic really and I admit my writing isn't perfect, but like you said - "I'm not perfect. You're not perfect." and I think that comes across. My action scenes are better then my description? Thanks - I find sometimes everything goes too fast but I don't know how to slow it down. I better stop now just in case you miss this - but I thought you deserved a reasnable sized answer to your review. Thank you very much, and remember, Gnawing Hunger was my first story past ten pages so I am bound to be a bit out of my depth here. But that's what fanfiction is really about - improving. (No - Kara's not a brummie! ;-D) and... yeah. that's about it. thank you for your reviews and I have a lot of time on my hands to improve, I'm not planning on dying yet! ;-D**

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><p>Debbie steps on stage. I swear silently under my breath. I mean, I like Debbie and all that but I hoped I might have a half decent escort this year to help me with my mentoring alongside Lumina and Hercules. I'm just glad I get on well with the all of my fellow mentors; I'd hate to imagine having someone I hated on the team since we are practically like family, the way we stick together like glue. But then again, none of us really have had a proper family so that is just how it goes. I think about us, me from the rich part of the district, Hercules from the middle, shop owning part, and Lumina from the cheaper, rougher edge of district eight. We're all pretty different yet we're all pretty similar, though it is strange to say when it is put like that.<p>

I feel all the boys from our district draw a sharp intake of breath when I step up onto the stage, tailing Lumina and Hercules. My outfit seems to have struck more than a bell with them and I see them staring at me clue-lessly. I glare at them all and then formally take my place next to Lumina on the three seats propped onto the stage. I guess that since I have just joined the mentoring crew Lumina will be staying here, though the massive bag she had Hercules heft along pretty much says otherwise. I wonder why, it is customary for the district's youngest tributes to take the place of mentor, since they were the most recent to endure the terror of the games and will probably be able to recall it the easiest. Anyway, there are generally two mentors. I mean, the drunk from twelve is one and I've seen a couple of examples of three mentors, but that's hardly ever the case. Mainly victors want to stay away from it all, unless it's a career district in which case there can even be fights about who is going to mentor, they think it is such an honour. I can already tell you I think of it far from an honour.

The mayor starts speaking and I feel as if I could almost die. I know his speech so well I actually start reciting it under my breath, but then I get a bit wrong as he lists the names of the mentors that there has even been for our district since I just murmur 'Our four representatives of this great honour of victory, our four victors, our four mentors are Oswald Bourne, May Flutter, Hercules Stayton and Lumina Carter', whereas he says 'Our five representatives of this great honour of victory, our five victors, our five mentors are Oswald Bourne, May Flutter, Hercules Stayton, Lumina Carter and Kara Jaymond'. It still takes time to adjust too; soon my name will be chanted each year under everyone's breath as well.

I think of what everyone said about all of our victors. Oswald won the fourth games, I think, before careers could be properly established. I've heard that he was quite mad and the games twisted him, apparently he just wouldn't die and was an old man that the games had ripped apart when he was just fifteen, like I was. May Flutter was said to be, despite her polite sounding name, rude, obnoxious and always picking a fight with people. Apparently she died when I was two years old and won at the age of twelve, which was a very young age, but she used that to her advantage apparently. This year is the seventy first hunger games and May apparently won the thirteenth, it may have been unlucky for some, but not for May. Apparently she stormed the arena mercilessly and used to boast about it afterwards. Really I'm glad neither of them were with me, but thinking about it Hercules will go down as a terrifying muscle man and Lumina will be thought of as a deadly survival expert whereas me, well, I don't even want to think about what they'll be calling me when I'm dead.

The mayor's speech ends and Debbie takes control, greeting everyone and wishing them a happy hunger games and to let the odds be forever in their favour. Of course the odds aren't in their favour if they've applied for tesserae, but they seemed to have accepted that it is all a big like really.

"Let's get around to the reaping then, shall we? Ladies first!" Debbie calls and I shuffle forward in my seat to get a good look at all the girls, I need to be able to know everything about her to help her, the girl will be under my wing especially, after all.

"The winner is..." Debbie calls and I remember the tension I felt. I am the only one of reaping age who is perfectly relaxed, I know that they can't reap victors, but that doesn't go the same for our family. Luckily I don't have a family that is in reaping age, and neither does Lumina or Hercules, well, a family that they count as a family.

"Indigo Dream!"

I immediately scan the crowd for a reaction. There, I see a girl in the seventeen year old section look startled and I wait for her to make a move towards the stage but she does no such thing. I examine her, she has untamed black frizzy hair down to her waist and dreamy grey eyes as well as startlingly pale skin, almost white. But then I hear someone climbing up onto the stage on the other side and turn my head around to see an almost identical albeit smaller version of the same girl. I must have been looking at her elder sister. Indigo steps up to the stage, a look of grim determination fixed onto her face and she approaches Debbie and takes her place by her.

"How old are you?" Debbie asks her and Indigo takes the microphone Debbie is offering to her.

"Twelve."

I look at her sister who is gaping helplessly at the stage and then takes a step forward. Before she can though, a boy from the seventeen year-old section who looks so alike he must be her twin, steps forwards and tugs her back, firmly planting his hand over her mouth to stop her crying out. I don't look at my tribute and I don't feel the swimming sickly feeling of sympathy wash all over me, I just stare gormlessly at Indigo's poor sister as she struggles against her twin brother to go and do something, but what would she do? What could she do? I see her mouthing something and focus on the words she is trying to squeeze out of her mouth, _I volunteer_, she would volunteer for her younger sister; she would rather die for her than watch her die. It hits my heart deeply, striking me. I can't believe it, I wouldn't have done that. But there she is, willing to put her life on the line and her brother is stopping her. Even though I know he is doing the clever and sensible thing I can't help but hate him for it; that girl was willing to give up her life but he stopped her. But before I can think anything else the next name is being called out.

"Zen Strike."

Suddenly a wail breaks me out of my thoughts and I barely see the brother release his twin sister as I look over to the source of the commotion. The boy, Zen Strike, as I will have to assume it is, is crying, badly. I feel like yelling at him and telling him to shut up, he's already lost any chance of his sponsors unless Hercules somehow saves the day. His startlingly alert green eyes are filled with tears and his short, rough cut, sandy blonde hair keeps on flicking over his face. He's in the fourteen year-old boys section. I see Debbie pause for another few seconds and then she signals for some peacekeepers to go and grab him and tug him on stage. I look at him piteously, that's what I have learnt to call bloodbath fodder, and I know he'll be dead within the first day. I grimace and he takes a seat on the stage. As I follow him I notice that Indigo has sat on the chair next to me as well. Then Debbie wraps it up with a 'happy hunger games' and then the two tributes are escorted to say their final goodbyes.


	4. Kara, That's An Avox

**Actually, I might just say thank you to Isis. When I first got your review I was thinking along the lines of "HOW DARE ANYONE SAY SOMETHING OTHER THAN HOW AMAZING MY STORY IS!". But now I realise (with an 's') how useful that was! I don't go back and change old chapters but I take it on board with new chapters and hopefully you should see my story improving now. In Gnawing Hunger Kara is far from perfect though, she just might come across as perfect in her own eyes since it is first person, but she isn't really. She's glad that someone she doesn't like is reaped, which frightens her, and when she kills she goes into depression, just not for long since i had to continue the story! Thank you so much, I have now learnt that negative is the new positive and your review really helped me out there - so everyone, lots and lots of constructive criticism please! Not criticism though, constructive criticism!**

**Ok then, on with the story! This is my fourth chapter this evening and I have run out of supplies of chapters so the rate will not zoom up like this later! Thank you very much, especially my three reviewers so far - go and chuck a dog off a cliff and shoot a polar bear, it makes you feel a lot better! =D**

**Thanks then: ~SneverusSnapers!**

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><p>No-one stays longer than necessary in the town square after the reapings so soon it's just me, Hercules, Lumina and Debbie as well as a couple of people taking down the stage; after we've got off it of course. The camera people have already left, they've gone to set up their cameras for the shot of the tributes climbing onto the train. Luckily there won't be any cameras on the train or in training so I should be fine talking to the tributes in case there is something they haven't let out, but I really don't see anything really special coming up; it looks like a pretty open and shut case to me. I have a small twelve year-old girl who won't be going far and a wimpy fourteen year-old boy who is going to be a bloodbath death without a doubt. I feel slightly dizzy; I was hoping that one of them could win this one, that maybe one of them could have some potential like I did, but evidently not. Evidently it's just not that simple being a mentor after all.<p>

"Well that went well!" Debbie chirps, shattering the silence, making Lumina, Hercules and I snap our heads around towards her angrily. That went far from well; two more innocent children were condemned to death all because of the stupid Capitol and their stupid hunger games. I growl in my throat menacingly, this is really not good, I have been having nightmares about going back ever since I left and now it has come down to it I am pretty certain I am stuffed. Now I am sure that only three of us will be returning to district eight - me, Hercules and Lumina. But why is Lumina going too if she wants to escape the horrors of the Capitol? Well, there's only one way to find out - I decide to voice my thoughts.

"I'm not meaning to be rude, or anything, but why are you going with us, you don't have to now I'm here, so, err, why are you coming?" I ask bluntly and Lumina looks down awkwardly.

"You're my friends and I just don't want to stay here all by myself, it would be an unbearable couple of weeks."

"As unbearable as going back?" Hercules asks and gets a ferocious glare from Debbie.

"More unbearable." Lumina murmurs and I feel a faint smile coming to my face.

"So, err, what do we do now?" I ask and Lumina rolls her eyes and grabs my hand and then tugs me down from the stage.

"Follow me." She says and I nod and lever my hand out of her grip. Lumina starts off towards the train station followed by Hercules. The train station here is rarely used, it's mainly a pit stop for the trains carrying coal from district twelve before they get to the richer districts and of course the Capitol. I smile as sweetly as I can and wave cheerily at the cameras. A few bother to actually turn them on for me since I won last year's games but I doubt the footage will be shown unless either Zen or Indigo wins which seems far from likely.

"Here we are!" Hercules says quite cheerily and I look at the train in front of me. Even after last year I can't help but notice it couldn't be more out of place. I look at our grubby, dirty train station and this state of the art, gleaming bullet train. They just don't mix. I find myself smiling, even though this is the Capitol's train and this is the hunger games train. I try to snap myself out of it, it's just a train, it doesn't matter really, in fact, if I should have any feelings for this train it should be one of anger because it will take me to the Capitol and the hunger games again. This train will ruin my life. This train will ruin my life once more.

I step into it as I feel my arm being tugged almost ferociously through by Lumina and find myself inside the train. Even my previous life and the softened version from victory village is nothing compared to this and I feel the Capitol comfort ease back into me. At this feeling I see Lumina shudder, her body trying to protect her from the Capitol easing back into her system. I understand, this has ruined my life, turned it upside-down and now it wants to accept me back with open arms after nearly driving me mad and killing my half sister? I think not.

My dreamy state is smashed in an instant. They want to trick me, deceive me into thinking that this is some sort of treat. It isn't. The more I like about it the more I realise the truth. This is no wonder, no loving peace and harmony. This is terror, pure and senseless terror. This is terror directed at me. I smile weakly at Hercules since he has noticed I have stopped and move on down the train, following an energetic and bubbly Lumina. I hear her giggle playfully, almost like a tiny girl. I find it hard to imagine what she must have been like before the games ruined her and rotted her soul. I imagine her as light and happy, always smiling. But the games changed that. The games have changed everything.

I find my feet leading me into the dining cart to be presented with such an array of food my mouth starts watering desperately in want of a bite just by looking at it. I slowly creep forward as if I was in the games, step by step, inch by inch. Then I dive on it like a lion on an antelope and stuff the closest thing into my mouth – rich, creamy apple pie. Then I see Debbie's face, aghast. I lunge back almost as quickly as when I dived in but still Debbie looks mortified.

"What?" I manage to choke through a mouthful of the pie, pieces of apple and pastry spraying across the room.

"You're meant to be a mentor, a role model!" whines Debbie. I just roll my eyes simply at her. Hercules comes up to me and pats me gently on the shoulder.

"Good on you Kara." He whispers under his breath just loud enough for me to hear; unfortunately just loud enough for Debbie to hear as well. Hercules just doesn't do the quiet thing.

"I heard that!" Debbie snaps viciously, though she just looks pathetic. It's really funny seeing Debbie when she gets worked up about the smallest of things. I guess that's one of the few things I miss about the hunger games and the Capitol – winding Debbie up. Before I can come up with a snide comeback or another way of teasing my ex-escort I see a boy who looks about my age bent down on the floor, hurriedly sweeping up the crumbs. I bend down and snatch the dustpan and brush off him brutally so he jumps and the crumbs spray all over the floor. He looks at me, startled.

"What?" I ask him but he stays deathly silent. I roll my eyes at him again, making him look down as if scolded.

"Come on, what's the matter, cat got your tongue?" I ask, but before I can add anything else Lumina is tugging me up.

"Kara, that's an Avox." She whispers as if it's an unspoken word.

"What's an Avox?" I ask but Lumina steps back coldly, as if unable to say anything anymore. Why do I keep on saying all of the wrong things today? Surprisingly enough it's Debbie that answers my question.

"Avoxes are mutes Kara, they had their tongue cut out for crimes against the Capitol."

"What sort of crimes?" I ask and I see Hercules open his mouth to speak but Lumina stretches to the points of her toes and gently places her finger against his lips, motioning for him not to speak. I smile awkwardly down at the Avox. What am I meant to say? He has had his tongue cut out because he's a criminal. But the more I think about it the stronger a thought echoes around my head. What kind of crime did he commit? Did he murder or torture, did he steal or vandalise? Yet deep down inside me I know the only crime that boy has committed is to think.


	5. You're Going To Die

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and if you haven't - why not? Even if you don't have an account you can still review under any old name and I don't bite! Well, this is a long one and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Momoloveslife5th-6th: Kara may not be so 'kick-ass' at the moment, but she will regain more 'Karaness' as the story goes on, it's just at the moment she a bit freaked out and very, very out of her depth. I hope that clears that up!**

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><p>I stand there awkwardly as the Avox exits the room, head bent low and gaze kept to his feet. When the door shuts I let out a sigh of relief, though what I should have been worrying about I have no idea. I freeze, I really have no idea what I'm actually doing; I'm more one for making it up as I go along. Hercules seems to have picked up on this.<p>

"Kara, we need to discuss the tributes before they arrive."

"Oh." I murmur and then turn around to face all three of them, "So... what do you think?"

"They're as good as dead." Hercules says bluntly, at which Lumina scowls.

"They're not that bad." She says, "The girl has spirit and the boy, the boy..."

"They're dead." Hercules finishes not so helpfully for her.

"They could be faking, are they faking?" I ask and I just get a shaken head from all three of them.

"Those tears looked real enough to me." States Lumina simply and I look down at the floor. I've been hiding inside myself recently like my father did after my mother's death; I guess it's just the horror of the games that is striking me full on now and the fact that I have to remember. I don't want to remember; I want to forget. But what I want is nothing in the eyes of the Capitol; I don't have a choice in this. I'm going to mentor and to do that I have to keep myself cheeky and outgoing at all times, it's time to turn back.

"Right!" I say so loudly Debbie almost jumps out of her skin and I quickly hand out instructions, "Debbie, you go and meet the tributes and bring them here. Lumina, you go and check the tribute's rooms are prepared. Hercules, you go and distract the cameras if needed. I'll stay here and greet them. Once you've finished go and do your own thing until I call you, you can re-braid your hair if you really want, I don't care, just stay out of my way!"

There is barely enough time for the shocked silence that follows and I usher them out of the room and slam the door behind them. Immediately afterwards I feel a deflating sigh puff out of my chest. That was definitely the old Kara back on the block. I smile slightly, but only slightly; I still feel defeated and worn out, I'll have to try and do something special to keep me up and about happily; but I really don't know what I could do that is counted as special here, everything feels dead, like I have been away and just got back, but everything has changed.

The door creaks open interrupting me from my thoughts and I see Debbie bounce in followed by a cautious Indigo and Zen. Debbie gives me some enthusiastic thumbs up and then skips out of the room, shutting the door behind her and cutting me off. No calling for back-up now then, I'm on my own. Right, I have to seem positive, positive. Come on Kara, think of something positive to say.

"You're going to die."

Ok. That came out wrong. I see the terrified faces of my two tributes and I rack my brains for something to add to it, "If, if, you don't let us help you and you don't trust your team."

"What?" Says Zen, the first thing I've ever heard him say.

"Trust," I say, then decide that maybe I should expand on that after a slightly awkward pause, "Is an important thing, you have to have it in us; I'm basically saying that you have to trust us. That's your mentors, your escort, your stylist, your prep team..."

"Yes. I got that." Indigo says, breaking me off, "But why are you telling us that now? Aren't you meant to be introducing us?"

"You know who I am and you know our escorts and all of the other mentors, so do you really want me to go through and list them and their personalities?" I snap. Unfortunately that just causes tears to well in Zen's eyes. This mentor thing is definitely harder than it looks, I have just realised what a pain I must have been to Lumina and Hercules.

"Right then you two! I'll take you to your rooms; I'll leave you alone and we'll put on something that Debbie will approve of, or not in my case, and then you lot will meet us in the dining carriage at the end of the train in under an hour and we can stuff ourselves full of food. Does that sound like a plan?" I say and I see Indigo and Zen slowly nodding. Maybe all I need is confidence and then they'll believe me.

"Follow me then!" I say and I swing open a door, it accidently smashing into that Avox I saw earlier. I automatically gabble a quick apology and move on.

"Who is he?" Indigo asks.

"Indigo, that's an Avox."

"What's an Avox?" She asks and I find myself repeating what Debbie had told me just a few minutes earlier.

"Avoxes are mutes Indigo, they had their tongue cut out for crimes against the Capitol."

"What kind of crimes?" Indigo asks, yet again asking the same question I asked earlier.

"The less said the better, now, this is your room!" I say to Zen and then I point at the one opposite, turning to Indigo, "And this is yours. Freshen up and remember to be in the dining carriage at the end of the train in under an hour. And if you need me I'll be in the mentor's area of rooms, in the room with my name on it." I say, telling them what Lumina had described to me. I smile to myself and stride down the corridor confidently and can't help but giggle slightly as I hear gasps come from my tribute's compartments. They have probably just realised the comfort they're going to be in until the games start. When the games start they know they're going to die though, or at least they must think that.

I reach my door; I can tell it's my room because it has my name carved on a solid silver plate on the front. I reach out and brush my hand against it and then push the door. The room that greets me isn't as plush as when I was a tribute, but it still is a sight to cherish. As soon as I step forwards across the threshold I suddenly notice that it must have been personalised to my supposed tastes. There is a large silver double bed which's frame loop around so it looks like a maze of vines and creepers, each leaf interlocked with the other to make up the frame and each post like an elongated plant bud. The floor is a neat cream colour and the walls a deep purple so that it almost seems homely. I'm glad to see light purple curtains hanging over the window and draw them immediately. I want to keep what little privacy I have to myself. I then follow to lock the door and then I push the door to the adjoining room and look into the bathroom. Shower – check. Toilet – check. Sink – check. Abundance of meaningless buttons, knobs and levers – definitely check. I smile slightly, the Capitol way to extravagance is definitely a good one, even if it does mean it leaves us in the districts with little or nothing to eat. I guess it's just good for the Capitol then. I stride back into the main rooms and glance at the walls, tapestries and drawings of dresses are hung up on the wall, including some of the more famous ones as well as the less famous and I even recognise Ally's fishnet bubblegum pink and mustard yellow shirt that Zap modified and I can't help but giggle. In fact this whole room seems to have been made only for me.

Once you become a victor you're meant to have a hobby to keep you occupied. Since I'm from district eight, the textiles district, and I am meant to always be fashionable I, or rather the Capitol, have decided that I'm going to go into fashion. They offered to get my work designed by my designer but I don't want to spend any more time with Ally then necessary so I have ended up actually designing clothes. They're certainly imaginative but they're more like costumer than clothes, like the kind you wear when you're a hunger games victor. I hope that maybe I can convince Zap to make some of my designs so I can wear them instead of my ridiculously revealing outfits. They'd still be sexy so I could pass it, but not as bad as my current clothes.

As on cue I open my wardrobe and am face with a horrendous sight. There is more see-through material than none and definitely a lot of the tight fitting, ridiculously short items. I finger a puffy lacy black mini-skirt with gold and silver sequins which seems to go further out than down and I gape aghast at a crop-top which looks like it went through epic proportions of tie-dye. Eventually I scan the wardrobe and realise that I just can't wear anything in there. I hurriedly unlock my door and go into the carriage next to mine, the one for the tributes. I don't want to disturb Lumina because she actually looks pretty shaken about coming back here so I knock on Indigo's door. There is no answer so I push the door open slowly and step in.

Indigo is sitting on the floor, a pile of dresses heaped on top of her and laughing almost manically. Her smile winks at me and I can't help but smile too as she giggles. I just let out a short chortle and Indigo's head whips around and her eyes lock with mine. She leaps to her feet and folds her arms defensively.

"What are you doing here?" She snaps, angry that I intruded into her room.

"Sorry, I, I just wondered if you have any clothes, anything too big for you that maybe would fit me?" I ask and I see Indigo's eyes soften as she looks at my outfit.

"So that's Capitol stuff, it isn't yours at all. You don't want to wear it." She states more then asks yet still I reply.

"Yes. I wouldn't wear this normally. You don't think that, do you?" I say but Indigo remains silent and rummages through the pile until she picks up a black jumpsuit and chucks it at me.

"It seems like pretty stretch material. Oh, and have these as well." Indigo says and hands me three more outfits, "It seems they didn't clear out all of the clothes that aren't my size."

I look at the four outfits I am holding, a simple black jumpsuit, a long flowing blue dress which almost ripples like the ocean, some tight bright orange trousers with a matching bright blue shirt with orange sleeves and a plain long white dress that reaches down to the floor and almost looks like something you would wear as your bride's dress in a simple district wedding. I smile, they really have catered for all looks for her while I have only got one type of clothing which I am not planning to wear at all. I smile and loop the four outfits over my arm.

"Thanks Indigo." I say and make to leave but Indigo calls something to me just before I pass the threshold.

"Call my Indi!"

"Ok then, thanks Indi." I say as if it is not that important and then smile knowingly as I exit the room. There, I have just made the first step, the first step towards victory.


	6. Don't Get Me started

**Here we have a nice chapter. Sorry if it isn't really picking up. But remember, it's not Kara's life on the line at the moment so she's not as worried, even if she has no idea what is going on. All of these six chapters have been the same day - reaping day so yes, it might be a bit tedious. So far Zen and Indigo have been reaped and then they have been on the train. The next chapter will be the next day - I promise! So yes, please read and review. Soory I called you Isis, but I didn't read it properly. You're Iris, I've got it now! The hunger games don't belong to me (if only), they're Suzanne Collins, and just for the record, I'm not going canon. Because that pretty much restricts everything. Because then this would be Annie's games, or that would have been last year, and then Cecila would be a mentor for district eight and everything would be messed up. But I will still use some of Suzanne Collin's characters unless she tells me not to! ^_^**

**But even then they won't be major. I think it's for the best! Anyway, as well as the sequel to Gnawing Hunger I am also doing the prequel at the same time (weird, I know). It's called 'Falling For Him' and is about Kara's mother which I hope you will also enjoy! Of course there isn't much action at the moment, but Kara has a lot on her mind at the moment and she's bonding with Indi, which you have really found in this chapter, Indi opens up. And we will get to know a bit more about Zen through Hercules! One question to Iris though - have you read Gnawing Hunger? Because some bits of your reviews make me think you have, some bits make me think you haven't and I'd love to know. Really I would! Thank you everyone, anyway, I hope you read, review and enjoy this!**

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><p>The long blue dress ripples like the waves in the ocean, fluttering in the air. The light blue doesn't really go with my deep blue eyes but I am fine with it, this is a lot better than my wardrobe selection. I managed to put on some roman style sandals which were one of the few things in my wardrobe which wasn't high heels and I tied my blonde hair into a high ponytail with a huge navy blue hair band like I would do before the games started. I still find it all quite hard to get over. I finally arrive in the dining carriage and find Hercules and Zen there, already talking and picking at the huge buffet spread across the table. Since Hercules is mentoring Zen and I am mentoring Indigo I really don't know what Lumina will be doing. I guess we'll establish that later. I smile politely at Hercules and Zen and they smile back. Civil and simple, a good plan. The doors clatter open and Debbie hurries in and checks her watch which is in-built into her wrist and screeches.<p>

"I'm late! I can't believe it, I am so sorry, will you ever forgive me?"

I pause for a second and them smirk slightly, then put on my regal Capitol accent, "I'm afraid I cannot do that, being late has no comprehendible excuse."

Debbie looks down to the floor like a scolded child and I hear Hercules snigger. Then suddenly Debbie looks up into my face and I can't help but crack a small smile. Her face becomes even angrier when I giggle slightly and she realises I've just been winding her up. She opens her mouth to scold me no doubt, but Lumina enters and breaks the silence with a simple 'hi guys' before taking her place at the table between me and Debbie. There is only one more second of chilled atmosphere before everything breaks down into relaxed stance again and Hercules and Zen gets back to chatting, though it seems Hercules is doing most of that. I turn to Lumina.

"Do you know where Indi is?"

"Indi?" questions Hercules.

"Yeah, it's her nickname." I say, "Why, is that important?"

"You've been making progress." Smiles Lumina, but just before she is about to say the next thing the door crashes open and Indigo tumbles in.

"Hi Kara." Indi says before nodding to the rest of us and taking a place on the table.

"She's taken to you." Lumina whispers in my ear but I just bat her away. I just guess Indi realised about me and the lie I have been leading and sympathised. But if anything I am glad. If she takes me as a bit of a role model maybe she'll help me out.#

"Right, everyone, let's start. Do you two want to speak to your mentors separately or together?" Hercules bellows, taking command.

"Separately." Both Indi and Zen say almost at once.

"Ok, fine by me." I say and Hercules nods, I finish off the Capitol apple I have been absent minded-ly munching on and then leap from my chair, Indi tailing me. Just before I leave I go back to the table and swipe a platter of dips from the table. At the aghast look of Debbie's face I wink cheekily at her and then stride out of the room, throwing a comment at her.

"Just in case we get peckish!"

I scamper out before Debbie's glare can get focused and almost drag Indi down the corridor into my room. Indi looks at it, dazed.

"Wow." She says eventually, staring gormlessly at my room, "You've got a lot more character in here than in my room."

"Hey, I'm going to be here every year, it's allowed to be more homely."

Indi looks at me and seems to look a bit upset for me. That's right, I'm going to be here every year. But she might not, she might be dead by then. I hurriedly try to divert her mind.

"Right Indi, anything you have to say then, anything special you can do?" I ask her.

"Well..." Indi starts, seemingly unsure.

"Come on, it doesn't matter what you say, it stays between us to." I lie. Hercules and Lumina will hear too, they have to.

"I've led a less than honest life Kara." Indi says and at those words I gape at her, but she continues, "No-one suspects a little twelve year-old will be the one that steals their purse in the market; they just look out for the huge burly men, not the sweet little twelve year-old girls."

"You're a thief?" I gasp, surprised.

"If you want to put it like that then yes." Admits Indi, "But I only steal what is needed for me and my family to survive."

Suddenly I feel a twinge of guilt tug at me. I'm a victor; I have more than enough money to keep myself alive in considerable luxury. Yet I kept all of the money to myself, I could have helped Indi and others out yet I didn't. And Indi's sister must have known this, that Indi was more likely to win than herself, yet still she tried to volunteer.

"Your sister..."" I start.

"Don't get me started about her." Hisses Indi angrily.

"Why?"

"She could have saved me; she could have saved me from this. And she didn't even come and say goodbye to me, my brother said something about her being too devastated to go. That's not true, she's too guilty, that's why."

"I know, she was guilty. But not for the reasons you think." I say simply and Indi look up at me.

"What do you mean?"

"She tried to volunteer for you."

"What!" Indi almost screams and looks at me bewildered.

"Your bother, your brother stopped her." I manage to gulp out. But now all the fire and anger in Indi has died down and she sinks to the floor, her back pressed tightly against the wall.

"I can't believe it; I never thought Violet would do something like that for me. I always thought that she didn't like me." Indi gulps.

"That's true Indi, she doesn't like you." I say and when Indi raises her face up to me in puzzlement I rest my hands on her shoulders, "she loves you."

"I..." stutters Indi and I cut in.

"No, save that for later. We really need to talk about your strengths. Which weapons can you use?"

"I, I use a knife when I cut people's purses from their belts. I have to be accurate there."

I smile, I'm seeing more and more of myself in Indi the more I get to know her, "Well lucky you because you've got the best knife thrower in district eight to mentor you."

Indi smiles and looks uplifted, "I can climb well and I know quite a bit about plants and herbs and such from Violet, she's training to be a doctor." The more I hear about Violet the more respect I have for her. Violet spent her whole life training to heal and she was prepared to kill to save her sister, that girl really must love Indi.

"You're small, people don't suspect you. I say you just try your best to fit in, become un-noticed so you're not a target. Play the innocent helpless card in your interview maybe and then you can camp out in the arena like Lumina did. In fact maybe you should speak to Lumina; we could both coach you. What do you think?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, that sounds great." Smiles Indi.

"Is there anything else you can do?" I ask.

"Not that I can think of. I mean, I'm pretty sneaky and i guess I could steal from other camps and I doubt some of the other tributes would want to kill a twelve year-old apart from the careers."

"Avoid the careers at all costs Indi. And whatever you do don't go into the bloodbath, you're not ready for it. We'll determine tactics later though. We should go and see how the others are." I say and Indi nods silently. I swing open the door and swagger down the train calmly, this is going to be easier than I thought. When I pass Hercules' room the door swings open and Zen steps out and gives me and Indi a tight smile before slowly moving towards to the dining cart.

"Go do your own thing Indi actually, I'll talk to Hercules. Try the apple pie, it's delicious." I say hurriedly and luckily Indi gets the jist and heads towards the dining cart. I swing open Hercules' door and enter his room.

Hercules' supposed hobby is weight lifting so I'm not surprised to find some weights stacked in the corner and pictures of several different weight lifters by the looks of it hanging on the wall alongside a thick manual on the key techniques to weight lifting. But the main thing I see when I enter Hercules' room is Hercules standing in the middle, stunned. I slowly approach him and when he sees me he manages to choke out a few words.

"How did it go?" he stutters and I know better to ask him why he's looking as if he just got hit over the head with a very large hammer.

"Well! It turns out Indi is a bit of a thief so she can steal and she is actually quite good at climbing and running, or so it seems. I think she might actually have a chance, be a bit of a Lumina. What about you?"

Hercules looks at me, dazed, and stares right, deeply into my eyes.

"We have a Johanna Mason."


	7. Rope?

**I must say I had an awful lot of fun writing this chapter. The last line is my favourite, just because it is sort of mentioned in Gnawing Hunger, but she never said it out loud. It made me laugh - since I actually cried when I wrote Dral's death though I suppose that's nothing. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love all who review and if you review every chapter you get a special mention at the end! So get reviewing! ;D**

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><p>I lie in bed in the morning, thinking carefully. I never knew so much could happen in just one day. Almost exactly twenty-four hours ago I was waking up, sweating over a nightmare and now I'm right inside it again. The hunger games are back. I think carefully, the arena, they'll want to do something big after last year that was pretty big, despite the arena. They have to keep up appearances. They'll slowly lower the tone, they can't let it drop. So I guess I'm going to be the one to blame for all of the hell that the tributes are going to go through.<p>

But what hit me was Zen. I can barely believe it. Hercules said Zen would show us again tomorrow but by the sounds of it what Zen showed was so good Hercules can barely breathe. I can't believe it – Zen, the bloodbath fodder, a promise. And Indi, I mustn't forget her, who would have known she was a thief? And all in one day. It really scares me actually. Indi and Zen, almost definitely bloodbath tributes, now promising victors.

I can see what should be done almost immediately. Lumina and I are probably going to share Indi, leaving Hercules with Zen. Those two seem to be getting on well. I wonder what Zen showed Hercules, it must have been a lot to impress him. I sigh, there is no point waiting for something to happen. If I want something to happen then I should do it myself, and so I shall. I'll go and see Zen now, have a one on one chat with him. With a sigh I groan and almost tumble out of my double bed and am very close to collapsing on the floor. I look down at my pajamas. I have really short shorts which have lime green ribbon on them and are clean white with many different multi-coloured spots. I try not to laugh as I look at them and my plain white top, clinging onto me as if its life depended on it. Not that tops actually have lives but you know, it's the thought that counts. I sigh and think about it – maybe I should go and see Lumina and Hercules first. Not Hercules though, he's already seen Zen in action. But Lumina has as much right to see as I do.

I don't know the time but I do know it's early morning, maybe seven, so I am careful to slip on some purple fluffy slippers in the shape of a rabbit courtesy of Debbie and be quiet as I creep out of the room. As I approach Lumina's room I knock quietly on the door but nothing changes, she's probably just asleep. I sigh and swing the door open. What greets me makes me jump with fright.

Lumina is sitting on her bed with Hercules and they are kissing. Kissing. Lumina and Hercules. Lumina and Hercules are kissing. I close my eyes tight and open them again just to see the same sight. I carefully creep back and slowly shut the door quietly so not to arouse them. Right, that's... surprising. Why are they doing that? I mean, Lumina is Lumina and Hercules is Hercules. The thought of them being together makes me shudder. I slowly creep back down the corridor towards Zen's room. That's creepy. How long have they been together and I haven't noticed? Are they going to tell me or are they trying to keep it a secret. I guess if they make it public the Capitol might use it to their advantage but still, that doesn't mean they couldn't tell me. I'm their friend. Or so I'm meant to be. Well I guess they just revoked that privilege. If they want to be more then friends, fine, just count me out of their stupid love triangle. What is wrong with them, seriously, come on. They probably saw me coming, knew about it all. Yet something about it holds me back, makes me think again.

What if they think that I might accidently slip something out? And if that happens then it might be to Debbie. And if Debbie knows they're doomed. Fair enough, I'll play their charade for the moment. But mark my words – if they so much as hint anything in public I'll be onto them like a hammer. If they let it slip the rest will just tumble out of my mouth.

I try not to hiss and manage to sliver over to Zen's carriage. I feel almost like a snake really, it's ridiculous. What I just saw with Lumina and Hercules has turned everything upside-down. I don't know what to think anymore. I sigh and with a reluctant roll of my eyes knock sharply on Zen's door. After a quick shout of 'coming' and the distinct sound of someone falling out of bed I might even say I'm getting impatient when Zen opens the door. I try not to gape at him. He's just wearing trousers leaving his bare chest exposed and I try not to gasp. The scrawny look I pinned him down for has far from gone. Hidden underneath his malnourished shell is a new side of Zen I never knew. His chest is almost as impressive as Hercules', a giant mesh of muscles. I can barely gasp and just manage to stutter out a few words.

"You have; your six-pack." I gulp at the same time the same look is going through Zen's face.

"You have; your legs." Zen gasps quietly. I look at him staring at my slightly revealed legs and hit him playfully. Before I know it and probably Zen too my arm is behind my back, twisted round and primed to be broken. As soon as Zen notices what he has just done he immediately drops by arm and gabbles an apology.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, honest."

"You have killer reactions." I say, smiling it off.

"Um, do you want to come in or err, stay out here?"

"You shouldn't keep a girl waiting." I tease and Zen goes bright red. He's actually quite sweet. But I'm sixteen and he's fourteen, I'm just teasing him. Not that age difference ever stopped Ally. I shiver uncomfortably as I enter the room and Zen looks up at me, I'm only slightly taller than him. I guess it's my height; I am quite tall for my age.

"Are you ok?" He asks and then hurriedly shoves on a t-shirt just in case.

"No, no I'm fine. I just, I just had a bit of a flashback. That's all, nothing to concern yourself with. I'm fine." I explain and Zen nods. I clap my hands together to break the mood, "So Zen, what can you do? What's your weapon?"

"My weapon..." Zen pauses for effect, "Is rope."

"Rope?"

"Rope."

"What use is a rope?" I scoff and Zen merely raises an eye and then lists on his fingers.

"I'll just talk about you three mentors, no-one else, just you three. First of all Hercules, he tripped up a tribute with a rope, making them fall into a river where they drowned. He also used it to tie together a knife and a stick to fight off a mutt. Without it he would have been dead. Lumina – she used rope for a pulley system to get food to her like Rip did in your recent games, she also set traps with it. She caught three rabbits, two squirrels and a tribute. Now onto you Kara Jaymond. I envied you when you got that rope and the funny thing was you didn't recognise how much it saved your life, you just looked mad. But funnily enough you used it to capture that girl from six-"

"Martha-Rose Fall." I cut in and Zen shrugs.

"You used it to capture _Martha-Rose Fall _and drop her down a crevasse, then you used it to scale a vertical wall of ice to climb up a mountain and you finally used it to kill a sea serpent, looping it around its neck and strangling it. And those three life saving moves were all with the same knot. Imagine what you could do if you knew all of them, every single one. Like I do. Imagine how you would have fared."

"So rope's good then." I manage to stutter.

"Rope is definitely good."

"Just warning you Zen-"

"Yes?"

"The rope teacher in training is a total git."


	8. Not So Helpful

**I must admit I enjoyed this chapter aswell. I think Kara winding Debbie up is just so fun to write and there is (of course) an amazing plot twist smacked at the end of this because I know how much you love them. This is a nice cliffhanger and I hope you enjoy it. You know, of course, that Zap's amazing *cough cough* shirt that he wore when he first met Kara was of Ally's design and the colour scheme was bubblegum pink and mustard yellow. I just thought that you might want to know because otherwise you might be confused by one of kara's wind-ups. Thank you to all who have reviewed and all who have read. I'd love it if you could just click that 'review' button at the end of this chapter, it would make my day. Thank you in advance because you are no doubt going to press it, fanfiction account or not.**

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><p>By breakfast everyone's settled though we don't talk about Zen in front of Indigo, it would spoil it for him. I guess they both think they're going to be one up on the other. I smile knowingly. They're both better than expected. To be honest originally I thought they would both die in the bloodbath. But it is really hard to act normal with Lumina and Hercules acting like nothing happened. Maybe this has been going on for quite some time then. I try not to think about it and divert my thoughts into doing my favourite pastime – annoying Debbie.<p>

"Debbie, your wig is lopsided."

"I don't have a wig Kara."

"Really? I thought only wigs could look that terrible."

"My hair looks terrible?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking, that fashion is out of the Capitol. It's long gone."

"Really?"

"Yeah, the whole rainbow colour scheme is like you can't choose so you go for a bit of everything. You have to settle down into one independent style."

"Like what?"

"A colour scheme."

"What type of colour scheme, please help me out Kara."

"Well, what about one of Ally's, his student wonders which he used on this amazing shirt I saw Zap wear the first time I saw him. Apparently no-one could stop looking."

"Oh I know Ally; he's a real trend setter. Shame he's not with us anymore."

I almost jump out of my seat but manage to restrain myself.

"What, Ally's dead!"

"No, no sugar. Ally's moved districts, to a better one. I don't see why they didn't move me. Apparently he has to choose soon though, within the next few days. The chariot rides are being handled already. He just wants to see which of the three girls are more workable."

"More pretty, more like." I snort.

Lumina and Hercules look and me in a weird way. I never told anyone about what happened between me and Ally. Only Zap knows and I want to keep him that way but luckily Debbie saves the day from any tricky explanations.

"Pretty, workable, it comes to the same thing. Whichever will boost his reputation more. Ally's always been pretty clever. Nothing to match my amazing intellect, but pretty clever."

"Your amazing intellect?" I scoff, "Modest much?"

"Yes, apparently us people from the Capitol have at least 90% higher intellect than those in the districts, it's a proven fact."

"Who proved it?"

"Some Capitol scientist, I think. Of course he went on to say that those in power were the ones with less intellect than those in the districts but that was just one of his wild fantasies from the last moments of his life. I think it was a real shame about that oyster he choked on, apparently a bit of shell got lodged into his throat, preventing him from breathing. It just shows that we shouldn't be eating all of this sea food, you have no idea where it's been."  
>"District four." I say bluntly.<p>

"Oh no not district four, that proves my point entirely."

"District four's a lot better than district eight." Lumina cuts in from across the table.

"I know. I wish I was moved."

"Come on Debbie, it wouldn't be the same without you." I say and Debbie looks up at me as if for the first time.

"Really?"

"Sure," Hercules adds, "Who would Kara wind up then?"

"I know when I'm not wanted." Huffs Debbie as she pushes her plate deeper into the table and strides out of the room, "We'll arrive in the Capitol in about fifteen minutes so if you have anything to say then say it now!"

"Right. Let the stylists do whatever, trust them." Hercules says.

"You'd be a lot worse off without them." Lumina cuts in.

"Let them pluck you like a chicken, sculpt you like clay and generally modify you until you won't know what you is any more." I add.

"Not so helpful Kara." Murmurs Lumina into my ear and I blush slightly.

"Because if you don't there will be no you after the games to complain." I add, only making Indi and Zen look less promising.

"It'll be fine! Indi, you'll have whoever Ally's replacement is, probably a new stylist hoping to make their mark so they'll give you 100%. Don't dampen their spirits. Zen, you'll get Vivian's designer, Mimi. Mimi isn't just quirky and a downright genius but she is basically a female Ally and you've heard about Ally. He designed all of my outfits last year. So go away and let them do whatever. It will be worth it.

"Honestly?" Indi asks, looking me in the eye.

"Honestly." I say and then push Indi gently in the right direction and wink at Zen who already seems to have formulated tears in his eyes. I will never understand him, I'll have to talk to him later.

The moment they step out of the train I feel myself being yanked to the side by Lumina and Hercules. They must have seen me spying on them. I'm just about to apologise when Hercules breaks the silence first.

"Now we're going to see their opposition. It was on last night and although we missed it like usual I recorded it so we could see it together."

I think about it, maybe only the time Lumina and Hercules have real privacy is when they're in such tight surveillance no-one thinks they would try anything and almost all of the cameras are primed in on the two tributes and probably me, to see how I'm doing with my first year of mentoring. Maybe they've been with each other for a while and are used to having to be secret whenever they spend time together. I shake my head clear of any thoughts about that, I need a clean mind to examine these tributes.

We all settle into the television compartment on the train. We're only getting off in a few hours when Zen and Indi get out of styling where we will grab them and take them to the training building. But that isn't important. They'll see the tributes there with their stylists, we just need to analyse these tributes here properly, every single one.

First of all it shows the tributes from one. The boy and the girl both have an interesting angle to play. The first boy, Toto Byte and the girl, Boudicca Kisasi both look like strong careers already. Toto looks like he would go for anything in a skirt though, which makes me wish he had been in the last games for me to trample and Boudicca apparently volunteered because her parents were setting her up into a marriage to someone she didn't want so she volunteered. That girl has strong drive. The tributes from two look deadly, really deadly. An eighteen year-old boy, Wolfgang Lupe, drives the fear into the careers and already looks like a promising leader and his district partner, Sweet Bliss is far from sweet. She looks as bitter as can be and ready to torture, murder and stride through these games.

The two tributes from three are both quite old, but look more like bookworms than murdering machines. Now onto the careers from four. Current Swan is a boy who looks about fourteen alongside a young girl, Juniper Hurling, who was reaped at thirteen yet no-one volunteered for her, like she holds a secret. Then the two tributes from five are twins, Orion and Isis Song. Isis looks like the brains and Orion the brawl. I just wish that someone would have volunteered for one of them. I think by the looks of them they've already accepted defeat and that one of them is going to die.

Then the boy from three is so unnoticeable I actually forget about him. That might be useful in the arena, no-one going after him. I have almost given up on the whole sexy approach idea until a brunette girl swaggers up to the stage, volunteering in six and blows kisses to the silent crowd. Misty Spring, interesting name. She'll be an interesting death. Though I wonder why she volunteered. She shows no sign of knowing the previously reaped tribute and it's six not a career district. Then next up comes the tributes from seven, June's district. I almost hold a breath until both of them come up onto the stage. A young twelve year-old boy and a girl of about my age with blonde, almost white hair falling down to her shoulders. I pity her, I remember exactly what I was like in the last games. I try to suppress a shudder.

We fast-forward Indi and Zen's reapings the second time we replay through it all, we saw everything there. Then the tributes from nine pop up onto the screen. The girl is indifferent. Shocked, worried, the usual. And the boy looks like a dead ringer for Rip. I would have said they were related except this boy's name is Scale Biff, so evidently no relation there despite them being from the same district.

Eyley Roar and Aroma Piece are the next up in ten. Eyley seems to have been working on the farms in ten a lot and so does Aroma, except Aroma is thirteen so there is not much going on there from her. The boy from eleven is typical, but the girl looks moody and stroppy. Capri, I think her name is, Capri Swift. I note her name down because I can see the definite signs of a whipping underneath her dress which she shows a strong dislike to. It looks like we've got a bit of a rebel here.

Then the tributes from twelve appear on stage. They are both children from the Seam, the rougher part of district twelve. The boy is seventeen and the girl is twelve. I feel sorry for both of them, especially the girl. It doesn't look as if they have much of a chance. When the credits roll down I sigh heavily but I find Lumina and Hercules are just staring dazed at the screen, as if in a trance.

"What is it?" I huff and Lumina looks at me.

"You don't know?" She asks and I crinkle my brow.

"Yeah, those poor tributes from five, twins, terrible."

"No Kara, the girl from four."

"What about her?"

"Her name is Juniper Hurling." Lumina says and I stare at her puzzled until I realise. She's Juniper Hurling.

Juniper Hurling. Dral's sister.


	9. Stuck In Limbo

**This is basically showing the similarity between Kara and Zap and the fact that they're basically on the same wavelength. Thanks for all of your lovely reviews, I hope you are enjoying this. The games should start soon, I'll speed up the pace in a small amount of time; I promise. And actually, no one mentioned it, but Dral did actually talk about his family and he mentioned hat he had three younger siblings. Juniper, two years younger than him and then Braley and Rye, the twins who were four years younger than himself at the time.**

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><p>I remember what I thought when Dral first mentioned his sister. I thought she was a wimp. In fact I remember that whole conversation like it was yesterday.<p>

"_Well, there's my younger sister, Juniper who is twelve. It was her first reaping and she was really scared, she actually cried at home before we left." Dral said._

_I didn't want to brand her as anything but Juniper sounded a bit like a wimp, sure, you could be scared at your first reaping, but to the point of crying before you leave, well, that was just wimpy._

"_Then there are the twins, Barley and Rye. They're both ten and are a real pair of troublemakers." I can see Dral smiling even now, "Even though Rye's just a girl she's a lot tougher than Barley. She is just about the toughest girl her age, but I don't think my mother will be letting her volunteer after I was reaped." _

"_What do you mean, 'even though she's just a girl'? I could beat you anytime." I said, giving Dral my most evil glare._

"_You're on!" Dral said and then lunged at me, knocking me to the ground._

I try to hold back tears. That was the first time I kissed Dral properly, not being Clara, just being me. I remember the last time I saw him as well, before June dragged me off his limp body. He said he loved me, I replied. I said I loved him too. And I wasn't lying. That's it; I have to repay him for what I did to him. I killed him and now I have to make it up to him or at least his sister. I may want Indi or Zen to win or maybe even that girl, Boudicca, from one at a pinch, but I can't let that happen. I have to do everything in my power to let Juniper win.

Once she's in the arena I can't help her and I suppose she would want to kill me if I went anywhere near her after the look she gave me in the victory tour, but that thirteen year-old girl has to win because I owe it to Dral and I'll give it my best shot. I know what I have to do, however much it disgusts and repulses me. To help Juniper before the games I have to ensure she gets a large amount of sponsors and therefore I have to ensure she has a good team. Her mentors will be fine, I think she has Finnick Odair and some other mentor who sounds career-y, and her escort is a typical Capitoline. But her stylist isn't the best. I know that because I know the best. I know the best and I know how to get him onto her case. Me.

I see Indi come out of Mimi's styling studio. Indi gives me a happy grin and tumbles towards me.

"You were wrong, I have Mimi. You were being treated like the boy, remember?" Indi says.

"Oh yes." I say, realising that now that means that Zen will have the less impressive stylist, keeping up with his alibi, "That's great; that means you have the better stylist then."

"I wouldn't count on it." Says a voice and I see Zap step out of the room tailed by Zen.

"Zap?" I gasp.

"The one and only." Zap winks at me and comes up by me.

"So what is Zen's stylist like then?" I ask him and Zap gives off one of his cheeky grins.

"He's handsome, charismatic, a downright genius and much better than that scumbag Ally."

"Who is it?"I ask but Zen buts in.

"Shut up Zap, you're my stylist."

"You're a stylist?" I gape.

"Talent climbs the career ladder quickly." Zap jokes.

"You two, Zen and Indi, go and see Hercules and Lumina; I get all confused between the two Z's, Zap and Zen." I order and usher Indi and Zen away. Indi bounces off and Zen seems to glance at me in a strange way and then wander off after Indi.

"What's it like working with Mimi then?" I ask, breaking the awkward silence between us.

"Oh, she's 'well fit'."

"Oh really?" I ask.

"Not as 'well fit' as you though Kara." Zap teases and I punch him playfully on the arm.

"Ow!" he winces, "That hurt."

"Stop being such a baby, Zap."

"Stop being such an adult, Kara." Zap mimics my scornful tone.

"Oh yeah, you think I'm mature?"

"Never." Mouths Zap.

"Well I'm more mature than you." I say, causing Zap to raise an eyebrow.

"Ultra-mature cheddar, eh?"

"Stilton."

"Stilton." Zap nods in agreement and we both seem to pause, thinking back into out rather random ramblings.

"I guess I should say I missed you," Zap says.

"Really?" I ask.

"But that would be a lie." Finishes Zap and then he lets out a snort of laughter which I can't help to share.

"Seriously now." I say in an important tone, trying to straighten things out.

"Seriously, I can do serious." Zap says, trying his hardest to act seriously.

"Right, Zen. What are you going to do about him?"

"Something big, something wild, something to make my name stand out. A risk really."

"No. Play it safe." I order and Zap looks at me, puzzled.

"I'm not meant to be taking orders from you."

"Who says you are?"

"I say."

"You say what?"

"I say that you're bossy."

"So do a lot of people."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

"Listen Kara, I've got to make my name out there and Zen's my ticket. He looks like a nobody but I can make a Finnick Odair out of him, you will see."

"I don't want a Finnick Odair, I want a Johanna Mason."

"Wait a second, you're saying that Zen, of all people..."

"Yes, he's got a chance. As does Indi."

"What has Indi got?"

"She's a thief."

"Never?"

"Ever."

"Well, that doesn't change anything. I've got to beat Ally."

"No you don't."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah, because Ally is going to do the girl from four."

"Who says?"

"I say."

"Kara, you can't mess around with him, not after last time."

"I'll be careful, and I owe it to Dral."

"Dral? What's he got to do with this?"

"She's his sister."

"Holy cheese!"

"You do know you have some really random sayings Zap."

"That's not the point; the point is Dral wouldn't want that."

"He wouldn't want me to help his sister?"

"He wouldn't want you to risk it with Ally."

"I'm a big girl now, I can handle myself. I won the hunger games, you know."

"It didn't look like that last time I saved you."

"You did not save me, just gave me a hand."

"Listen, Ally's dangerous. Stay away from him, Kara."

"What if I don't?"

"Then I'll have to make you."

"I'd like to see you try." I scoff.

"I'm not going to fight you anymore, but I really need this Kara, I need to make Zen a masterpiece."

"I need you to play it safe for just one year, help out with Indi's costume; she can be as elegant as you want."

"I don't know..."

I pout my lips and try to look as innocent as possible, "Please?"

"Fine." Zap gives in and then opens his scrunched up eyes, "Just don't make me say 'I told you so.'"

"I'd never dream of it." I tease and then slowly exit the room, the door swinging gently behind me. That was easy enough, Zap will play Zen safe. Now all I have to do is convince Ally. Now that could be a bit harder. And if I get it wrong I know what will happen. I will be undoubtedly and unquestionably stuck in limbo.


	10. Time To Talk

**This may be slightly confusing, but this is how it goes: I have posted the chapter after this before, I just decided it would be best for this to go in front of it because I feel that the events in the next chapter are rather sudden and I have a few holes to fill in. Here we meet Ally again, Kara finally kisses someone and someone else smashes a glass bowl in shock. And of course, the much anticipated (and not wanted) songs return! Sounds good? Well read on and enjoy! And if you've read all of my hunger games stories on my profile then read soem I have co-authored. 'Set On Fire', on RiversOfVenice's profile, has been co-authoured by her and me and on 'Subject Matter's profile you will find 'Decimated Dreams', which is Subject Matter, Let the Foxx Fly and myself. But don't forget to read some of my things of course!**

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><p>I step forward after a hurried '<em>Come in' <em>when I knock almost solemnly on the door to Ally's room. As I enter I can barely hold my breath as I find I'm surrounded with almost millions of drawing and sketches on the walls, brief glimpses into the reality of this man's mind. I barely think about him as I find myself step through the barrier of the door and trace my hand on the nearest picture I can find. It's almost a doodling the way it is presented in a few quick and nimble sketches, stuck hastily on the wall with masking tape wonkily, yet it is a masterpiece in itself. I see a dress of billowing flames, virtually coming to life as if it jumps out of the page at me. I hurriedly snatch my hand away as if burnt when I notice Ally. He smiles when he sees what I'm admiring.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Ally asks and I find myself nodding compliantly which somehow causes a chuckle from him.

"What?" I ask him and Ally shakes his head then looks at me, a smile playing on his lips, those very same lips that forced themselves onto mine. I keep a smile from going into mine and I try to regain a stiff and upright position.

"That wasn't designed by me. That was designed by my rival in college, the all glamorous Cinna. He just needs someone, someone special; someone with a real spark to try it on." Ally explains. The name Cinna seems to stir something in me but I keep all my emotions in check and nod civilly.

"Kara..." Ally says and lifts himself from the desk he has been perched under and I glimpse a brief sketch out of the corner of my eye, barely registering anything in the mere few strokes there unlike what Cinna did with his. No wonder Ally had his hands full with this Cinna, he sounds like a genius. Ally starts to move towards me and fear suddenly seems to rise in my stomach and I instinctively take a step back and then after a slight shudder remember what I am here for and what I need doing. I remain rooted on the spot.

"I just, I just want to-" Ally says and I feel fear rise in my stomach. This is it; I must repay Dral by saving his sister. I have prolonged this too much. I will do whatever it takes, whatever the consequences are, I'll get Ally on her case.

"Apologise." Finished Ally. What? Apologise? I'm seriously confused, what does he mean he wants to apologise? It's really confusing.

"I'm an idiot really, and I feel really bad about it. Just you were giving off mixed messages all of the time, and I was really happy to know that you were alive and I was unsure how you felt about me even though I know you. I mean, I've seen you naked for goodness sake!" Ally continues.

"I'd rather you didn't bring that up." I manage to murmur which coaxes a small smile out of Ally but he continues.

"And I guess I was a bit hyper, what with you being my first victor and my shot at fame opened and everything was going perfectly. I guess I just didn't get it, that you weren't interested in me, that you acted that way around everyone and you were only acting that... flirty since it was a habit in the arena and the cameras and stuff and I was a moron and... Oh can you forgive me Kara? What can I do to let you forgive me? Anything, I'll do anything. Say it and I'll do it, anything in my power. What do I have to do to make you forgive me?"

I pretend to ponder for a bit though I can't help a little smile creep into my look of total and utter shock. Ally's been trying to get near me after that incident for so long. I thought he might want to force himself on me again but it sounds like he just wanted to apologise. Profoundly by the looks of it. But it couldn't have played out any better. I let the tiny smile and the slight twinkle remain in my eye and I look straight at Ally.

"I want you to design a masterpiece even Cinna couldn't match for a chariot ride outfit, for-"

"Look Kara, I don't know. Indigo's got Isis, which is great for her, but I don't know about Zen. I do girls mainly, I design dresses. Call me what you will but it leaves so much more room for creativity there if I go for girls instead of boys and I don't know if Zen is-"

"Shut up Ally." I cut in as I try to ignore his startled look, "I don't want you to do Zen. Did I say that? I think Zap is more than capable." At this Ally bristles slightly, I guess them being _slight_ rivals has absolutely _nothing_ to do when Zap punched Ally in the face when he forced himself on me. I mean, I don't think it's the best of relationship starter's I've seen.

"I told you Kara, Indigo is Isis' work. She'd practically kill me if I took her and anyway, it's my chance to leap up to the careers. I'd like to take it."

"And so you shall, Indi is out of this." I say, causing Ally's face to mould into a look of confusion, "I want you to work on the girl from four, Juniper Hurling, and give her the best of the best, ok?"

"What is this? Is this some kind of evil scheme to help out one of your tributes? How come her name sounds slightly familiar? What's so special about her?" Ally burbles.

"She's Dral's sister." I explain simply and I can tell by the gaping hole that Ally seems to call a mouth jammed into his face that he's a bit more than slightly surprised.

"So you'll do it?" I ask.

"Count me in Kara, count me in." Ally agrees and smiles at me. I smile back and slowly back out of the room. When I leave I find myself with a spring in my step and a whistle in my voice. Before I know it the song I have in my head is coming out of my mouth.

_Oh everybody needs to let go and fly free,_

_No-one should be freezing cold and alone,_

_Together we should be, just you and me,_

_Every heart belongs right at home,_

_How I never understood how I could feel so,_

_My heart beat like a hummingbird's wings,_

_I think I have begun to understand now though,_

_But for the rest I'll see what the future brings,_

'_Cause when we're together I feel the world turn around,_

_Every single dewdrop slows to a pace,_

_The sun beats steadily onto the luscious ground,_

_And I seem to only think of your face,_

_How I got to meet you I shall never know,_

_Just that I am at one in peace with you,_

_See how the raindrops reflect just like the snow,_

_One is like another, yet also different too,_

_So to us there is only you and me,_

_We're just the best ever team,_

_You may be just like me but you'll never ever be,_

_The same 'cause that's the way it's always, always been._

"Cute." Says a voice and I turn around with a startled jump to see Zap smiling at me and with a seductive wink he swaggers up to me.

"Now a little birdie told me you just went and saw Ally against the amazing and all mighty Zap's orders."

"I bet you nurtured that little birdie in that little birdie zoo of yours." I tease.

"No, I shot it." Zap jokes bluntly and then looks at me, right into my eyes and I feel my deep blue eyes lock with his sharp static ones, "You know Kara, I think it's time to cash in a favour."

"What's that?" I murmur, but before I can say anything else Zap has dived in and pecked me on the cheek. Unfortunately or however I take it, I don't really know, at the same time he did that my head whipped around and I find his lips against mine. He jerks back suddenly the very moments our lips brush but still I have the warm sensation of his almost electric spark frazzling my lips and they tingle with satisfaction and static, I however, just stare at him.

"Ok..." I manage to eventually murmur, breaking the awkward silence that has built up between us, "should we call it quits then?"

"Yeah. Quits." Zap murmurs and then gives me a pale look, but when I look closely the pale look isn't at me but past my shoulder. I glance around and see Zen standing there aghast at the clatter of glass and shards fly into the air. None hit anyone but the glass of the bowl he was carrying shatters across the floor into tiny pieces and he hurriedly rushes out again before the rushing of the Avoxes arrive. The first one on the scene looks like the boy from the train and he bends down and quickly brushes up as many fragments as he can. I freeze for a moment and then think.

What have I been doing? Who have I been joking? I'm a hazard to people, they'd all be better off without me. I guess I've led Zap on now and Zen's upset as well, then I don't even want to mention what I did to Ally, blanking him. But now I've fixed what I need to do, Juniper has a chance like I told myself I'd give her. No more and no less, just a chance as does Zen and Indi. I can't help them anymore. Who am I kidding? I barely helped them in the first place; in fact I have probably just been a hindrance to them, blocking them from achieving their full potential. They're better off without me; they're all better off without me. It would be better if I die right now. Before a single word can be uttered I rush off to my room. There a decision will be made, a proper decision. Should I do that, should I die to help others? I guess I'll find out soon enough.


	11. Letting It Out

**So sorry for the long wait for this chapter, but I have been writing a joint story with two other authors on here called 'Decimated Dreams'. It's on 'Subject Matter' 's profile and I suggest you read it, it's very good. Basically it's been written in the POV of two tributes who are both hilarious and cranky as well as great characters in general. I strongly suggest you read it because we actually have no-one reading it at the moment, just the three authors which is me, 'Let The Foxx Fly' and 'Subject Matter'. So I've been working on that all of my time and have been pretty busy. So go and look for it, I promise you it's great. Onto this though - Kara snaps in this really badly, in fact she snapped in between the two chapters and she's back in her room. A new character is introduced in this chapter. Well actually you have seen him around a couple of times but no-one ever commented on him, except one person who was actually talking about Kara and happened to slip him into their review. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter and I hope even more that you review. Do not fear (or rather do), songs shall be coming soon. There will probably be about one per ten chapters so it won't junk up the whole thing. This is set before the chariot rides, they're on in the next chapter. I hope you like it then, and don't forget to read the _prequel _to Gnawing Hunger, Falling For Him. It's really good, I promise you! This is the end of my crazily long A/N. SneverusSnapers out.**

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><p>The cannon fire rings around my ears, echoing through my head.<p>

One. Leon Ripe.

Two. Alan String.

Three. Daphne Shoe.

Four. Martha-Rose Fall.

Five. Dralakone Hurling.

Six. Precious Good.

Seven.

I freeze for a moment then regain my thoughts, pushing them back together and propping them up carefully into my mind. I have to keep together for this, I have to process everything carefully. This is it. This is seven.

Seven. Kara Jaymond.

Can I do it? Can I kill myself; commit suicide? I look at the shard of glass in my hand and the shattered vase I got it from. My hand shakes jerkily and I try to breathe and regain my thoughts, collect them together. Death. I have killed six people. I might as well make it seven and end the suffering I have caused. What kind of life do I hold really? What kind of feelings? It's all a charade, all of it, everything. Kara Jaymond isn't like this. Kara Jaymond isn't big and bold, funny and flirty. Kara Jaymond is patient and grim, respectful and morbid. I'm no hero. I'm no real victor. I haven't won, I have lost. As that crown was placed on my head I realised, I realised that the struggle has just begun. What will I have to do; will I be submitted to a fate worse than death? Dying at the hands of me is a stroke of rebellion in itself. Maybe I could do it so it seems like an accident at first, so they realise too late. They realise when the image of my dead body is broadcast over the whole of Panem. Maybe that could start something, save the butchering of children that goes on every year. Again and again and again; death after death after death. I can stop that. All I have to do is plunge the shard of pottery into my stomach. Death will be quick, relatively painless. I will feel no real pain; I will feel no real torture of my soul. It's simple. That's all I have to do and death will embrace me with open arms.

But I can't.

Why can't I, you ask? Why can't the all glamorous, courageous and flirty Kara Jaymond take her own life, you say? She can do anything, she can fight off sea monsters and kill tributes, she fought and she won the hunger games. Yet the invincible, untouchable Kara Jaymond can't take her own life? Why can't she kill herself? Why can't I kill myself?

Because I'm scared.

I'm scared of the shard poised, ready to strike, I'm scared of the shaking hand holding it upright and I'm scared of the Capitol and what they will do. What they will do to my tributes, to my friends, to my family. I'm scared of what they will do to my father. So I stay, shard aloft, face frozen in determination. This life may not be worth living but other people's are. Other people could lose their life because of me. I cannot take the action to do this, to fight myself out of it.

I hear nothing, no-one speaks, no-one says anything. But suddenly I feel hands, warm strong hands, coax the shard out of my grip, leading it away from my hands. I am shaking all over, vibrating like one of the machines in district three. It feels like I'm freezing yet I'm boiling. I'm hot and I'm cold all at the same time, it's like opposites are running amok all over me and a hand, that same hand, is joined by another and those hands pull me away and turn me around to see the face that is the owner of the hands, the hands that saved me

It's him; the Avox on the train, the boy around my age, the tongue less boy. I feel a lump swell in my throat and I suddenly can't speak yet my emotions and feelings are writhing all over me, crawling all over my body like beastly insects poised and ready; prepared to drink my blood like mosquitoes; prepared to drink my feelings and suck my very soul out of my heart. I manage to stutter something out, the first thing that comes to my head.

"What's your name?" I manage to squeak, realising too late that he can't speak. I feel the need to pause and I reach forward and pick up a pad of paper, my nose faintly registering a mild scent of the citrus lemon and lime combination but my brain ignoring it as I hand it over to the Avox. He becomes frozen like a statue for a second hovering on the spot as he is unsure of what to do. Then he slowly eases the pencil out of my hand and presses it to the paper, revealing neat and stylised handwriting underneath.

_Alder Oak._

I try not to stare for a second and then nod, trying not to talk too much. I open my mouth and say my name. Alder just nods solemnly; I guess he already knew that.

"Err, where do you come from, which district I mean?" I manage to stutter into the silence. The answer is neatly scrawled onto the paper almost immediately.

_Seven._

Seven. The amount of people he stopped me killing, I would have been number seven if he hadn't stopped me and saved my life. I owe him my life. But would I have done it? Would I have really went and taken my life? I don't know; I honestly don't know. And it scares me even more than the Capitol, it really scares me.

"What happened to you?" I ask him and he writes a simple word onto the paper.

_Snow._

Snow; Snow happened; President Snow happened. That's the reason he is like that and the reason his life is barely hanging on a thread. That's why he was in danger, that's why he had his tongue cut out. Alder lifts the paper to me and I see what is down there.

_What happened to you?_

So I tell him, I tell him it all, from the very beginning. The truth. I don't know why but it all comes pouring out of me, everything, my feelings, my emotions and even my very heart. So I just speak and let all of my feelings flow out of me and Alder listens carefully and he nods in understanding as if he actually understands all of these feelings brewing around me and knocking me around, as if he knows. He knows why. And at the end I feel good, oh so good. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders as if almost my whole burden has gone. My screaming heart has been silenced for once and I feel more peaceful than I have been since my mother died, I almost feel a sense of belonging. Like Alder's my brother or something, I can confide in him and he understands unlike Zap or Zen or Dral, he knows. Alder has sat there nodding away to me for around a few hours, maybe even more, and at the end he passes me a piece of paper with a single lone word almost printed in intricate handwriting onto it. I look at it and genuinely smile at what he's written.

_Wow._


	12. Poseidon

**Sorry; writing this chapter took all day. No joking there either. I just had to decide on every chariot clothing and it took FOR EVER! Anyway, to all who are seriously confused about the last two chapters. I wrote and published 'Letting It Out' first, but I decided that it seemed to forced, or rushed, so i put a chapter before it, 'Time To Talk'. I hope that clears it all up! Yeah, this chapter sound exceedingly dull, but that's because it is pretty much. it's just the chariot rides so don't get your hopes up and prepare for a description of EVERY outfit! Do you know why I did this? No? Well neither do I. Actually, it might have been that when I read Suzanne Collins' hunger games I wanted to hear more about every outfit but she only described one and it made be upset. I figured Kara wouldn't care when she was one herself, but she's watching now so she's going to examine every one. I know this is taking ages and in Gnawing Hunger the bloodbath started in chapter thirteen but everything is pretty neccessary. I'll do something so training gets skipped somehow, you know, just skim through it, jump past the interviews and then plunge into the games! Anyway; you don't care about me, you want to read. So I invite you into the next chapter of Gnawing Hunger. Chapter Twelve - Poseidon.**

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><p>I try to keep my breath in as the first chariot pulls out but it's just too hard. Ally agreed to go onto Juniper straight away so I expect her to look the best, but still, I can't help feel great admiration to the designers of these masterpieces. Before I would have felt envy, had I not been the best, but now instead I am happy about it all and how everything has went, happy that these tributes have at least got a chance in the arena. I'll just have to wait for the last one. In my hunger games the district one tributes were wearing togas, symbolising the luxury goods they made for the Capitol, now they have a totally different style. Now they have a vain hopeless romantic who seems flirty and deadly all at the same time. I see him come out first. The first thing that hits me is gold, the chariot looks like it is almost made out of solid gold. Then I see the sixteen year-old's outfit. His back seems to be folded backwards and he is hunching over his bare chest protectively. At first I think it's because he's self conscious and then I notice the giant golden wings strung onto his back. I try to suppress a gasp as suddenly they widen out and the boy from one stands upright, hands stretched wide apart as the wings on his back expand into the open air, skimming over the crowd as their podgy fingers fly upwards, trying to brush the wings. The girl from that district, Boudicca Kisasi, does the same. But her I notice half of the chariot is silver when the horses trot around the track, his painted gold and hers silver somehow. Her hair is netted up by silver wire like a giant sphere above her head. They took legendary.<p>

Then suddenly I realise what trouble Ally will have to keep up with them, let alone top them. By the time I've finished admiring them the couple from three are pulling out. I quickly skim over those from two, something which they evidently don't like and are not used to. Wolfgang and Sweet glare at the crowd, their faces dark and hostile, glaring at the crowd from their roman-style warrior outfits. Sweet's black hair is pulled into a slick tight black bun hidden underneath a roman helmet and her dress is made up of sturdy leather with deadly looking spikes as is Wolfgang's. The two from three almost get ignored, a couple of tributes in lab coats sandwiched between the very gods. I would say the tributes from one was Zeus, Greek lord of the heavens, the ones from two were Hades, lord of the underworld. So that just leaves the third main god; the lord of the sea. Poseidon.

When Juniper comes out my gasps can no longer be suppressed. Ally has worked his magic yet again. Juniper's brown hair, deep in texture and fluffy like a tawny owl, somehow reminding me of Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom and battle strategy, has been pulled out of its fishtail plait and swings freely down her waist, pearls and shells seemingly swept into it like the tide would do. Then her dress seems to resemble the sea itself, rippling in the cold air, the colour the very aquamarine of the deep ocean as it moves. I can almost see the sea foam flickering across her and her deep blue eyes almost identical to Dral's, like the ocean, are just another part of her dress, of her image. I barely glance at the boy standing by her, seemingly strong, holding a trident aloft and waving it at the crowd to lap up the appreciation. But that appreciation that he is trying to take isn't his. It's Juniper's. I know Ally has definitely topped one on his so called nemesis, Cinna. I know Ally has beaten them all. No-one could beat this, no-one at all. Eventually I drag my eyes off Juniper and skim past those of five, the twins, Orion and Isis Song. I note their identical clothes, simple black trousers and loose patterned shirts before moving onto the tributes from six. The boy is nothing much to look at, plain black clothes with the odd pattern swirled into it, and although the girl wears almost the same I automatically frown at her. She's Misty, Misty Spring. That's your typical sexy right there and those killer black heels and super short dress complete with ridiculously low neckline is doing her body a lot of justice where it is concerned. I try to block out the few wolf whistles coming from the crowd and bite back my tongue from lashing out at her as she smiles and winks and waves at the crowd. I was never that full of myself, ever. It almost seems like she enjoys this, no, this is certainly not good. Next up come the tributes from seven, it's almost the time for my tributes. The tributes from seven show no surprise. Trees; the pair of them. I can just about see the tiny twelve year-old glimpse from under the mass of fake leaves and the girl next to him stare dreamily out as if it had been her life's ambition to be a tree. Honestly?

Then out come Zen and Indi. At first the tip of the chariot emerges, linked to horses. The horses are plain brown but at least they match each other and don't look out of place, the chariot immediately catches my attention. A mish-mash of colours greets my eyes. Compared to the district before's log it is definitely a lot more stylised. Then I look up at Zen and Indi. Zen has been dressed in simple brown trousers with the seams large and showing, gaps holding it up like something an ancient outlaw would wear and a loose itchy cream top meshed over with different colour stitching. It's almost like Ally's fishnet top really, nothing particularly standing out though. But what stands out is Indi. Somehow Mimi, her stylist, is one of the few Capitol people who have any knowledge and seemed to pick up on the fact that indigo isn't just a name but also a colour. So that's what she wears. She wears a loose; almost tulip shaped indigo dress, black knots binding each piece of cloth together and tied like a sack at the bottom where tight fitting bright silver leggings sparkle wildly in the candle lit light, cutting up the colours around her. But the best thing is her hair. No-one notices that she has flat almost school type shoes on because they're all looking at her hair. Indi's usually untamed frizzy back hair that usually meanders down to her waist has been modelled so it fans out around her. Not like some cheap paper fan but a proper, intricate device so that not a single hair is out of place without having to shave her bald to do so. It's almost a collar for her, yet it is her hair and silver like her leggings flicker in it, sparkling and ripping all eyes form the sorry sight of the costumes from seven onto her, therefore overshadowing Zen. Good.

Indi also insures nine gets basically overlooked and they zoom past dressed like some sort of spirits or ghosts, almost like the designer burnt the costume and decided to drape a bed sheet over them instead. The thought rewards me with a slight chuckle. Then ten come up. The girl, Aroma, is wearing a dress. With cow print. No, no, no. They make be the farming district but cow print? I pity them right now. And the boy is wearing a cow print _jumpsuit_. Right, that is it. If I was him I found get hold of a gun and blow my brains out right now. A cow print jumpsuit is the largest crime to fashion since shoulder pads, that's pretty bad. I hurry to get my eyes away from the horrific vision which is burning into my eye sockets and let my eyes swivel around to the tributes from twelve. Coal miners. Really; they have no material to work with there. Just two children from the seam, though the boy looks slightly tough so he might survive the bloodbath. The twelve year-old girl, however, hasn't got a chance.

But did I have a chance? Kara Jaymond from district eight. The retired head peacekeeper's daughter, whose mother was mistaken for her father and murdered. I was reaped alongside my maid. No; I had no chance. And yet I won. So that shows, chance is no big thing in the hunger games. What matters is luck.


	13. CCETSSV

**Chapter thirteen! Unlucky for some! Well, anyway, I wanted to speed things up so I have skipped straight to the interviews - don't kill me! And anyway, they only start in the next chapter. This chapter is basically catching up after training and introducing 'Cets'! ;) I hope you enjoy it and please review - this story is dying for reviews! And, of course, real the prequle to Gnawing hunger, Falling For Him, too. It's not very long so far but it will be! I just hope you enjoy it as much as you've enjoyed this and Gnawing Hunger alongside my random hunger games one-shots and such! Thanks and don't forget to review!**

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><p>"This," says Hercules, pausing for effect, "Is C.C.E.T.S.S.V. Or 'Cets' for short."<p>

"Err, what does that stand for?" I ask looking around the room Hercules has swiped his hand through, mentioning it with great gusto. We have just travelled through a corridor of almost identical looking rooms and finally ended up in the one with '8' stamped on the doorway. It's quite a simple room really, though it will serve its purpose. Screens are hooked onto the walls around us, trying to be disguised and four swivel chairs have been pressed to the desks filled with jotting paper and pens alongside various computer mice and keyboards. The jumble of wires has been hastily disguised but it is quite evident. A simple chart hangs onto the centre of the wall, divided into twenty-four small panes; seemingly for a picture of each tribute and a name below. I wonder what happens when that tribute dies. I guess I'll find out soon enough.

"It stands for Crazy Caffeine Ensemble for Terrible, Stupid and Senseless Victors." Hercules answers with a slight wink.

"Really?" I ask.

"No. It stands for Control Centre of Effort for Tributes' Survival, Sponsoring and Victory. But we call it the first one; it's a lot more imaginative." Hercules notes and leaps onto a swivel chair with a large creak and for a second I swear it's going to break but it just about manages to hold under Hercules' muscle. I pause and then throw myself down onto another chair, albeit more elegantly than he did and swivel towards the nearest keyboard. Hercules has already started tapping and I hear the door swing open and Lumina come in.

"Remind me what we're doing here again?" I ask.

"This is the place where you will handle all of the tribute's sponsorship and pretty much anything while they're in the arena. We are provided with maps of the arena and a few basic Gamemaker secrets to help us help them, but not enough to know the deep secret that the arena beholds. We will be provided with the maps once the games start and then we will-"

"Yes, yes. I know what we're doing _here_. I just want to know what we're doing here _now_. We're meant to be watching the interviews." I say.

"The Capitol couldn't be bothered to buy us seats, I suppose. But we'll see it from these screens here, just like the rest of Panem will see it from theirs."

I nod at Hercules and then swivel back around and sink back into my chair. These past few days have actually been pretty relaxed for me; albeit hectic for Indi and Zen. Nothing much happened, they trained and pretty much ignored each other otherwise. I guess that's the wise thing to do. But I was never the sharpest of the lot. That doesn't mean I'm thick, no, far from it. It means that I never know when to quit. Well, as I said, not much happened. Indi managed to successfully pull in a six in training; which for her size would almost put a career to shame. Talking of careers, Juniper got a six too. But still I see her in the pack, still included. They may know she isn't too great; but they know she's Dral's sister and as well as bringing home the promise she also brings home the bacon in the form of sponsors.

Zen successfully managed to net a two. I don't know what he did in there but it was definitely unimpressive enough to land him in the deep end of the scores-wise, or rather the shallow end. Whatever he did it got him a two. I also noted a few more scores into my brain, well; in fact I have them all written down here. I tug the list down from under my fist and read through it. The tributes from one got an eight and a nine, the ones from two both got tens. Wow! This is a lot more brutal than my year last time. I skim past three, the usual for them, and land onto the seven and six the tributes from four got. Well, that district somehow doesn't seem very strong this year. I flicker over to the twins from five. The boy got a five and the girl a four, not important then. I hum along as I skim through a few more districts. The sexy girl from six got an eight and I shiver uncontrollably, she just creeps me out. It's as if she actually enjoys what she is doing unlike Precious or I when we twisted the Capitol minds into convincing them that we were almost like fallen angels. The girl from nine got a training score of three, I note her down; she could be like Zen and faking being weak to slip under the radar. Or she could just be pretty basic and rubbish. The little thirteen year-old from ten who wore a cow print dress at the chariot rides flashes with a seven which strikes me as odd that someone of her young age could get a score like that. Her district partner, the owner of the cow jumpsuit and total crime to fashion, got a four, under average. Then the tributes from eleven and twelve are pretty unimportant like usual even though the girl from eleven was the stroppy one who seems to have got a whipping was in there. The female tribute with a six finishes off the list. I'm about to skim past it when I remember her – Angel Rise. Girl from the seam, twelve, innocent. And with a six? I'll point her out to Indi and Zen, just in case.

Over the past few days I got talking to Zap and Ally; separately of course. But they've been quite fun to hang around with, even though one will glare at you if they see you with the other. But it's quite fun and sometimes I do it on purpose just to wind them up. That really gets them. Zen has remained quiet and civil and tried to remain silent about the whole me and Zap kissing thing until I eventually rolled my eyes and confronted him about it.

"_Are you OK?" I ask Zen when I see him sitting on the top of the training building's room, staring blankly at the Capitol city beyond. At the lack of response I try to strike up a conversation that a normal mentor would use, "You ought to be careful up here; you could fall off."_

"_Can't. Force field." Zen says simply and with a grunt he chucks something that he had gripped in his palm at the layer of electricity and it violently fizzes and catapults the item back, springing by my feet. I bend down and pick it up; rolling it in my fingers. It's some sort of rock, the colours are bright and luminous and when I move it the colours dancing on its surface change; flickering in the light and dancing coolly through the air._

"_Your token." I mouth quietly and press it back into Zen's hand. I freeze; I know I have to talk to him about it. "Zen; about what happened between me and Zap-"_

"_No need to say anything Kara." Zen says bluntly and looks down._

"_No, there is because it was a one off and it's going to stay that way."_

_At this Zen's face shoot up and anger streaks into his facial features, "A one off! Kissing him on the lips was a one off! I pity any boy you go near! Who was the last person you kissed before Zap? Honestly!"_

"_Zen, I-"_

"_Answer me!" Zen screams angrily and I sink my head down low._

"_Ally."_

"_Ally?" Zen's face stirs with confusion, then settles into an even more angry and maybe slightly depressed and defeated tone, "You really like your stylists don't you Kara? How did that happen? Did you accidently forget he's double your age?"_

"_He forced himself on me." I say bluntly. Suddenly Zen's face melts and he looks at me strangely, his features now hidden and retreating. There's an awkward silence as it all sinks into Zen._

"_Sorry, Kara-" Zen says and hold out a hand to brush my shoulder._

"_It's fine Zen. Zap saved me, that's why I kissed him. It was kind of a promise; I promised him I'd kiss him for saving me. I didn't think he'd actually ask though; but I didn't want to break my promise."_

"_I don't break my promises." Zen says into the sudden infinite silence, "You know you said that when you won your hunger games. You said you don't break your promises."_

"_I don't Zen, I don't." I get up to leave the room and am about to climb back down the hatch when I hear Zen call out my name._

"_Kara?"_

"_Zen?" I ask._

"_Will you promise me something?" He says meekly, but with stony determination._

"_What?" I ask him softly._

"_That, that you'll look after my family. When; if, well, if anything happens to me in there."_

"_That going without saying Zen; of course I will." I nod and slowly turn around and go back to the hatch._

"_And Kara-"_

"_Yes Zen?" I say; my head whipping around to see him smile sweetly in almost a menacingly way._

"_Nice legs."_


	14. Just Lies

**Sorry, short chapter! And I convinced myself I'd finish the interviews this chapter so the games could maybe start in chapter 16 but no such luck! I only got up to district four before I ran out of steam and the chapter was an acceptable length to put up! Ah well, you shall read about Indi and Zap in the next chapter... when I can be bpthered to write it! ;) Enjoy reading, well, I hope you do, and since I am very obsessed with reviews I will happily accept them!**

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><p>"It's show time!" Hercules states and presses the enter key on the keyboard in front of him after a succession of tapping. The huge screen in the middle in front of us fixes to life, broadcasting Panem's channel and I hear the voice of Caesar Flickerman burst out of the television and I remember what it was like as if it was yesterday. I turn around and see Lumina the other side of Hercules, shocked that she entered without me noticing. I brush it off and see the screen fizzle to life. I swoop down past Caesar's buttery words to liven up the audience and flicker through them with my eyes until I finally sight the tributes. As fast as I can I suck in everything about them; their physical appearance, their posture, their outfits and manners.<p>

"What theme are Zen and Indi going for again?" I ask Lumina who coached them both through themes to choose from for their styles.

"Indigo is being the innocent little girl with some spice and survival and Zen is trying to make virtually no impression, if any a bad one. So he's going to go for weak but appear so weak that no-one will sponsor him anyway. He's a relatively healthy fourteen year-old boy with no family problems we can fork out of him, that's pretty much it." Hercules answers for Lumina simply.

"What did he say when you asked him about his family?" I ask Lumina.

"He said it was none of my business and if I wanted to know I was just going to have to accept the fate that I'm not going to." Lumina replies.

"Oh." Is all I can murmur before Hercules breaks us out of it.

"Right, Lumina, Kara, anything about the outfits that strike out to you, hint a theme?"

"Girl from six is sexy." I immediately say without a doubt at her bright magenta pink short dress which rivals even my interview outfit in length, or lack of it. With just one glance at her matching lipstick and dazzling smile to contrast with her primped brown hair Hercules nods in agreement while Lumina analyses slightly better than me.

"The careers; romantic, motivated to win, ruthless leader, ruthless sidekick, likeable and joking, follow in her brother's footsteps."

"You can tell all that from their outfits?" I ask Lumina as the first tribute; the girl from one steps up to join Caesar at the stage.

"And more; think about it Kara. The boy's shirt from one is too see-through and his trousers are too tight, the girl from there's hair has been left down wildly and her make-up has been done so she looks about as natural as possible; both from two are barely blinking and all those metal studs can't be a good thing. Boy from four is wearing vibrant colours and Juniper's outfit is similar to Dral's interview outfit."

When Lumina says that I notice it and nod slightly then try to sit back and enjoy the show, scanning the tributes for reactions every now and then.

"It looks like Indigo's going to have her work cut out. I think the female tributes from nine, ten and twelve are aiming for similar views as well as the boy from seven. She's sandwiched in between other innocent with a spark's." Hercules sighs.

I nod reluctantly and see the boy from two go off after a particularly nasty death threat to anyone who gets on his bad side in the arena or out of the arena. He's two years older than me and I feel the raw feeling of fear rise in my gut when I see his scowling face. I barely glance at the tributes from three. I recall their names from training, Zen mentioned them once, said they spent virtually all of their time failing at the weapons stations until the boy from one tried to sort them about. Apparently it almost resulted in a fight between him and the girl from two who said to let them be since they weren't worth the trouble. Disc and Essence, that's their names. I doubt they'll make it far, especially after those perfectly mandatory interviews. I find myself ignoring the boy from four's sarcastic comments and rather pathetic attempt at humour and then Juniper steps up and takes a seat opposite Caesar. They greet each other formally and start talking normally, about the arena and her training score alongside her age. But then Dral gets mentioned. Caesar has to mention him, doesn't he? But he does, it'll give her an edge in the arena, or I hope at least.

"Your brother was in the hunger games, was he not?" Caesar asks and Juniper stiffens.

"Yes." She says, blocking out anything else apart from her pounding heart and the steady beat of Caesar's voice to go alongside it.

"But he didn't win, he died. Do you think that will mean you won't be able to win therefore because he didn't?" Juniper gulps and I know she's been anticipating this, the whole way through since her name was plucked out of the reaping ball and she stares up at the camera, straight into its beady lens.

"My brother, my brother was a great tribute and would have been a great victor if it hadn't been for one tribute in the arena; one _victor _in the arena." Her voice beats with steady venom and I can almost feel the Capitol being enticed into her way of thinking. I feel my stomach twist and my heart tighten and my breathing just stop, my lungs unable to bring in another breath.

"She said she loved him and she killed him. This has been done before; this is part of the hunger games. This is what some tributes might call necessary. But what is different about this girl, this _victor_, is that she went past necessary, in fact she blew it up and trampled on its little shards, burying them deep into the ground. Not only did she say she loved him before she murdered my brother, she says she still loves him. She has the nerve and the importance to say she still loves my brother, even after she murdered him with cold steel to match her cold heart. This girl; this girl my friends is no hero. This girl; this girl my friends is pure evil. This girl has a name. This girl's name is the girl who murdered my brother and doesn't have enough respect to stop lying about her staged love to him. This girl is Kara Jaymond."

I didn't think she'd say it. I didn't think she'd say my name. But she did, and that name, those two simple words shatter my reality, they shatter my heart into such tiny pieces even the largest of the miniscule fragments could not be caught by the bare eye. She blames me; me for the death of Dral. She says it is my fault, my fault that he is dead. She says I meant it and I mean it and I am one liar to say that I love him when the true feeling I feel for him is hate. They're lies, all lies. Just lies, lies, LIES! But Panem believes her.


	15. Ice Cold

**This is a particularly long chapter, I think it's the longest I've written actually. Anyway, it has a lot in it. Since not everything fitted in I had to twist things around a bit so Annie has her hunger games a year or two before Kara because things were getting confusing. It doesn't matter, I just wanted to clear things up so they made some sense at least. This took me a lot longer than I thought it would be but an awful lot happened. I want you to tell me whether I got Finnick right though, because I haven't read anything to do with him for ages and I feel I've got him wrong. Please tell me. I must mention now that Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games and Finnick Odair. Why she gets him to herself I have no idea! ;)**

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><p>"Kara, are you alright?" I feel both Lumina and Hercules lean into me and I look up into Lumina's worried chestnut brown eyes.<p>

"Yes, yes, they know it's not true. I only won last year and was quite a hit then, wasn't I?" I state more than ask and Lumina nods reassuringly. I know it may just be buttered lies but I feel a sigh escape my lips and I swivel the chair around again to the screen. The tributes from district five talk about being a team and making sure the other one gets out alive. It breaks my heart to know that I want one of the tributes from eight to get out instead of them, but now I know that they'll go next, not that stupid Juniper girl. She's not even a quarter of what her brother was. Dral was kind, resilient and funny as well as optimistic and unbearably cute. That was Dral, he is nothing like his ignorant coward of a sister. He would want her to die. Though I know that is not the case.

"I just, I'm just going to get a drink." I manage to gabble when the girl from six swaggers on and I find I can't even look at her and her stupid and inhumane flirting. I tut to myself and exit the room. I didn't plan to get a drink but I find myself automatically almost gliding to the stand of ice cold water jugs which seem to be automatically chilled. My hand acts without my brain and I find myself pouring a glass of water and taking cool, refreshing sips from it. I look to the side of me and see the two mentors from four standing there, chatting away. The first I recognise immediately, Finnick Odair. As we were both a hit with the Capitol's romantic side I guess I should like him but I almost instantly don't. It's the way he seems to hold himself up and sneer at his district partner disrespectfully. But I guess by the looks at her it's either sneering or cowering. She's a hulk of a woman, a mesh of muscles to rival even Hercules' display; full of bulk and brawl and it looks like she possesses a few brain cells too. She snarls disrespectfully and picks up a whole jug of the ice cold water and pours it all over her head, letting the freezing substance crash down upon her.

"You know there was such a thing invented as a shower?" I comment and stride up to them after placing my chilling cup of water by the side, refreshed.

"Who invited you into our conversation?" The woman growls at me while Finnick just stares at me with interest, as if he is studying me. It's almost like the way Snow did on his visit to my house but slightly less creepy. I brush it aside.

"Since when did one need an invitation to start up a conversation?" I ask, putting on my regal tone.

"Since one started insulting one's company." Finnick comments, mimicking my regal tone.

"Ah, the all mighty Finnick Odair and his human Great Dane." I sigh at him, trying not to glance at his irresistibly fit body. He is very, very, very vain though. He is also very, very, very, _very _fit. I remember almost instantly disliking him and decide it's best to stick with that for the moment.

"I wouldn't insult Gloria if I were you, she'd tear you limb from limb if you so much as blink." Finnick advises prompted by an angry snarl from said Gloria.

"I thought you'd have had the more recent victor here, the one that won a year or two before me." I say and Finnick suddenly becomes rigid and I see I've hit a tight spot.

"Annie is- otherwise unavailable." He hastily says, looking tense.

"So you brought along the bulk eh?" I ask him and Gloria takes an angry step forward, "Ok, ok, I didn't mean it. Sorry." I hastily add.

"I'd go now, it seems like your tribute is on next." Finnick simply states and marches off in the other direction, Gloria trotting obediently at his heels.

When I reach Cets I see Indi just climbing up to the stage. I hum slightly, worried, as she steps up and can't help but smile as I manage to examine her outfit properly for the first time. She has a lilac dress made with flickers of light green and white layering underneath as well as delicate tights, thin and clear yet embroidered with leaves and patterns as is her face, it's almost like she's taking a step towards being from district seven. Then her shoulders puff out lightly and leave the rest of her arms hanging bare and gangly, or they would if it wasn't for the long delicate silvery clear gloves that reach up to her elbow. Her face has been sculpted into a mask of pure beauty, it seems clean and natural but yet nothing like the Indi I know and have seen. Her cheeks are too rosy, her skin too smooth and faultless, her lips too red. I will never understand how makeup can change so much and yet seem like so little to the unprepared eye. It looks like real natural beauty there, I just hope her designer can keep it up.

"Hello Indigo, Indigo Dream, right?" Caesar asks.

"Yes, my parents had no taste." Indi says after a slight unsteady pause causing a ripple of laughter from the audience.

"I made that one up." Hums Lumina impatiently from under her breath and I divert my eyes back to Indi again.

"So, Indi, you got a six in training. A great score for one so small. What's the secret behind it all?"

"I guess I'm just not what people think. I guess I have quite a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Any clue on what those tricks are?" prompts Caesar.

"All I'm saying is that you won't forget these games, take my word on it."

"That's great," Caesar almost purrs and I notice his sunshine yellow hair this year which seems brighter than it really should be on the occasion, but a lot better than what it could be, "So what's your token then Indigo?"

"Oh, my token?" Indi says, raising her hand with a simple silver chain with a small heart shaped locket looped onto it, "It's a locket."

"And what's inside it?" Caesar asks.

"I don't know," Indi admits eventually after another slight pause, "I could never get it open. Apparently it was my grandmother's. But no-one knows what's inside it. I guess I'll never find out."

"That's certainly a mystery Indi. We have time for a few more questions, I think. Any words of wisdom for the other tributes?" Caesar asks simply and Indi seems to ponder it for a bit before answering me.

"Well there was something my grandmother used to always say to me."

"Which is?"

"Don't use a hatchet to remove a fly from your friend's forehead." Indi said wisely, causing a ripple of laughter to vibrate through the audience.

"Let's move on shall we?" Caesar said.

"Of course." Indi politely nodded.

"She's too likeable." Murmured Hercules suddenly from beside me, almost snapping me out of the trance I was almost in, "she has got to say something sweet or solid now, something heartfelt."

"Now, for a last question, I just have to ask you, what do you say about Juniper's talks about your mentor, Kara Jaymond? Was it all false?"

"No." Indi said without a doubt, "I have heard Kara mention him and think of him too often and in such a way that it could not false, not even the greatest actress could mimic such a thing. Kara loved and still loves Dral, as I still love my family and will always love them. It is true without a doubt. Love cannot be mimed or mimicked, love cannot be replicated or faked. No, love can only be felt and those who embark on a journey to forge love embark on a fool's errand since the love both Kara felt for Dral and I feel for my family is pure, true love."

There's a stunning silence in the interview arena and then the first clap breaks from the arena followed by the next and the next until it is almost like a thunderstorm of clapping and cheering and shouting, stamping of feet and wolf whistling. Indi goes bright red and I know that somehow my reputation and I have stuck onto her now, and they know that since she seems to have faith in me I have faith in her and therefore that she has promise. Promise is good; promise is very good. Promise means sponsors, sponsors mean gifts, gifts means survival and survival means victory.

Next Zen steps up and he looks positively ordinary. In fact he looks under ordinary. I praise Zap from the deepest depths of my heart. Zen is wearing another net shirt, I think I can really see Zap's style here, tight black trousers with slightly sparkly sequins on and a top which is loose and baggy so not to reveal his six-pack. I try not to giggle at the memory of it, Zen's six-pack. He was so innocent about it. I just wonder what he did to train. Oh well, I guess I can always ask him if I need to. I am his mentor after all.

"Hello." Zen answers back to Caesar in an almost cowardly way. I think he might have even given himself a stutter. Isn't that going a bit too far?

"You got a two in training. How do you feel about that?"

"I, I'm just so h-happy that I man-an-aged to g-get an even ha-half decent sc-score." Zen stutters. That really is going a bit too over the top. I will have to talk to him about it later, I assume. I suppose I'll get him to do press-ups or something and maybe I could sit on his back while he's doing that. I've always wanted to do that since I saw it in a film and sit one someone's back when they are doing press-ups.

"I suppose you're glad you didn't get a one, eh?" Asks Caesar and Zen nods timidly. Really, he is actually quite cute when he's being shy.

"So Zen, this brings us to the Capitol. What do you like about it?"

"Oh, it's all, all, s-so wonder, wonderful. You're all s-so lu-lucky to li-live here."

"That accent of Zen's is definitely to hammed up." I say and Hercules looks at me, puzzled.

"No, I think it's just about right. The Capitol finds all of those with speaking disabilities weak and feeble, however minor like a lisp or a stutter. I think this'll really help Zen out."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yes really." Agrees Lumina and then they stare back to the screen.

"Thank you for that then Xen; I enjoyed my time with you." Caesar says, messing up Zen's name as well, an added bonus.

I barely watch the other tributes, I just about notice the two from nine. The boy is definitely like Rip, tough and independent, and the girl seems peaceful and she is actually a vegetarian as I am shocked to hear. She shouldn't keep that through the games. For all she knows she may have resided to human flesh by the time she finishes the games so she can't afford to be picky. I have to admit I fall asleep then, i guess it's just the stress of the day or something, but the next thing I know I'm being shaken awake by Lumina as the cute little district twelve girl seems to float off the stage in her warm pastel coloured dress. I clench my eyes shut and open again.

"I better turn in and get an early night then, it's a big day tomorrow."

And it is. Tomorrow the games begin.


	16. Just Appreciate The Music

**So yes, you thought it was the arena this chapter. Well you're wrong! I'm not quite ready to start yet. I'm sorry to all of you who want to get stuck into the games but I have a few more plot twists to reveal, well, just this one right now at this moment. Anyway, I am so sorry that this is a really short chapter, I was going to morph the next chapter into it as well, but I decided that that might not be as effective. And anyway, twice the amount of chapters means twice the amount of reviews! ;)**

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><p>"Kara, Kara, wake up!" I feel two broad hands shaking me maybe a bit too vigorously than need be and then they quickly spring back when I groan and turn in bed. I groggily open my eyes to find Zap standing there, a panicked expression on his face.<p>

"What is it?" I groan but by the panicked look in Zap's eyes I immediately sit up straight as a gabble of words fly out of his mouth.

"I shouldn't even be telling you this, if I got found out I would be in such trouble, I'm not even allowed to tell my family. If this gets out then-"

"What is it Zap?" I ask calmly. Zap takes a sharp intake of breath and turns to the wall of my room, leaning forward so he is balanced against it by his head, staring at the rich cream wallpaper. He slowly controls his breathing and begins to speak.

"I was, a few hours ago, given Zen's uniform for inspection, you know, to see if I can suss anything out, tailor it to fit him. All of that."

"What time is it?" I break in.

"Oh, about three. Now-"

"Three AM!" I almost yell.

"Yes, but that's not important." Zap dismisses with a wave of his hand urgently, "I was looking at the outfit, and, well I'm not meant to tell you anything about it-"

"Zap, cough it up!" I say impatiently through gritted teeth.

"The basic underline is quite simple – it's decomposable."

"Decomposable?" I ask, shocked.

"Yes, decompose, rot, decay, crumble, fester, mould, putrefy, go off..."

"I know what decompose is, just, can they do that?" I ask and Zap shakes his head impatiently causing it to bang slightly against the wall.

"I don't know, but evidently they just have."

"So, that means," I pause, "how long do they have?"

"Two days in the arena max, then their clothes just, well, rot away."

"Shouldn't you be telling this to Zen, he is after all your responsibility?" I ask.

"No, not allowed. Already brought it up with the head Gamemaker, they said it would ruin the games and I wasn't to tell anyone.

"And you tell me?" I ask; surprised.

"Well," Zap stutters and then look away though I swear his cheeks have just flushed red.

"Right, so, what can we do?" I ask, breaking the awkward silence that has built up around us.

"Nothing. We can't tell anyone, let alone them. I just, I just wonder what this am all about." Zap ponders.

"They'll all be wandering around in the nude, that's what it is all about. And Zen has nil chance of seeming pathetic once that happens." I sigh.

"Six-pack." Zap nods in agreement, "But actually no, they won't be completely naked."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Their underwear won't decay, but that doesn't help the Zen problem one bit."

"Maybe you, as Zen's designer, could tell him something?"

"I couldn't do that Kara. That would put both me and him at risk. You know the head Gamemaker made it _very _clear I wasn't to tell anyone, in fact I don't know if I should have-"

"Quiet Zap, I'm thinking." I say and then pause into the silence, "maybe you could give him some friendly advice, such as not to chuck away any spare clothes in the arena?"

"That might just do it." Zap said with a smile and then turns to leave. Just as he opens the door I call out to him.

"Zap."

"Yes?" he asks suddenly, amazingly quickly as his head whips around to see me.

"Don't wake me up at three in the morning ever again or you'll get what's coming to you."

"Ok Kara." Zap grins cheekily and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving a dazed me in his wake. I clamber back into bed bleary-eyed and impatient. I know I should be worrying about what I just heard but I'm too tired. I sink into my bed and then come to face one of the hardest parts of life, sleeping. You never remember it when you wake up but you always seem to take hours and hours falling asleep. And now; despite it being three in the morning and me feeling like I've just been pumped full of enough tranquiliser to knock out a fully grown elephant, I can't get to sleep.

I remember something my mother used to sing when I was younger to get me to sleep. It was far from a lullaby but I didn't understand it. As I grew up I started to ask questions but my mother would answer each one with the same phrase, "Just appreciate the music Kara". The thought almost transforms me back to the little girl I was then causing a childish giggle to escape from my lips. I think about it; I'll try it. Surprisingly when I start singing it I can remember every word.

_Eye for eye,_

_Life for life,_

_Son for son,_

_Just don't fear the knife,_

_Hear me now,_

_Don't you know?_

_How together we,_

_Together we must go,_

_Listen up,_

_Listen now,_

_We must be,_

_Must be more than show,_

_Eye for eye,_

_Life for life,_

_Son for son,_

_Just don't fear the knife,_

_Now concentrate,_

_Focus now,_

_Just you see,_

_Everything's going down,_

_Us two were,_

_Like two twins,_

_But drifting has,_

_Taken us for our sins,_

_Eye for eye,_

_Life for life,_

_Son for son,_

_Just don't fear the knife,_

_Feel no harm,_

_Feel no pain,_

_Once it's over,_

_We'll be together again,_

_This is it,_

_This is this,_

_This is death,_

_Forever more bliss,_

_Eye for eye,_

_Life for life,_

_Son for son,_

_Just don't fear the knife._

As my voice cuts out I settle back into my pillow and drift into oblivion, trying desperately to hide the thought in the back of my head, asking what it's all about. I smile slowly and murmur something to myself quietly before I finally drift off to sleep.

"Just appreciate the music Kara."


	17. Let The Games Begin

**You're probably going to kill me but the games haven't actually started in this chapter. Yes, yes, I know. I did _promise_ they were going to start in this chapter but... oh no, the games have actually started, haven't they? I just cut before you get to see the arena. Mwahahaha! I am evil! Anyway, one of my dearest readers, you know who you are, has been begging for some Kara and Zen romance. You'll see if you got it in this chapter, just I'm afraid that you know, I have to make decisions and cut things when need be and all that jazz! Kara has a bit of a fight with Hercules in this chapter. Meh, you'll see! ;D**

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><p>It's eleven. I've overslept. Mottled mushrooms, I've overslept! I bound out of bed and run straight into the corridor, still in the slinky black capitol nightie. I ignore the weird glances I'm getting from random Capitol passers-by; probably stylists, Gamemakers or something and hare down the corridor towards Cets. I crash in to find Lumina sitting there.<p>

"What's going on? What are you doing here? You're meant to be saying goodbye to Indi." Lumina asks.

"I overslept!" I yelp, "Where can I find her?"

"Second room on the right in the departures area, she'll be going up top soon." Lumina says helpfully and I nod politely then frantically dash off. I blame Zap; I blame Zap from the bottom of my heart. That massive pit there, you know; the everlasting one where my heart should be? I'll shove him down that next time I see him. Well, maybe I'll only give him a little push in the right direction. Luckily all my training and my days in the arena means I'm quite fit so I'm able to sprint into the room and almost screech to a halt, seeing Indi talking to her stylist, Mimi.

"I'm so sorry Indi, I overslept and-" I gabble.

"It's fine." Indi says almost grudgingly and looks down to the floor. I slowly look between her and Mimi and then wrap my arms around her in a hug. Indi sniffles slightly and I can see she's suppressing tears. I remember she's going into the arena after all.

"Chin up, little girl." I say and Indi smiles slightly as I slowly withdraw my arms off her back.

"Goodbye Kara." Indi manages to croak when she prises herself away from me.

"Not goodbye Indi, donec eras. It's Latin. It means 'until tomorrow'."

"Until tomorrow then." Indi sniffs.

"I really must insist you go!" Mimi cuts in, "you're not meant to be in here at all."

"Sorry, sorry." I murmur and slowly creep to the door and then I turn to Indi, "donec eras."

"donec eras." Replies Indi and then the door slowly closes on me and the last glimpse of her that I can see is her pyjama clad body shaking slightly, afraid.

"donec eras." I whisper to myself, caught in the slow automated system of breathing. Then with a single glance down at my watch I realise the time, half eleven. The games start in thirty minutes! And I have to say goodbye to Zen before getting to Cets with a few minutes to spare. I gasp a sharp intake of breath and hurry off. I push open the next door and see the tiny ginger twelve year-old from district seven looking as if he's on the verge of tears. I quickly slam the door back after an angry glance from his stylist and move to the door on the other side. As soon as I open it I see Zap's electric yellow hair spiking upwards and I know I've got the right room.

"Zen?" I call and I see Zen's sandy haired head whip around to look at mine.

"Kara? I thought you didn't, that you didn't want-" Zen stutters helplessly.

"Nah, I just overslept. Sorry."

"Oh, that's alright Kara. It's fine, it's not that important." Zen says awkwardly and I can't help but notice Zap sniggers slightly.

"So... I suppose I should say good luck then." I say, "Though really I shouldn't because I'm meant to be backing Indi and all, but still-" my voice trails off and Zen and I stare at each other awkwardly for a while.

"Good luck Zen." I say, unsure of what else I can do.

"Thanks." Zen replies bluntly and then suddenly, before I know it Zen has kissed me right on the lips. I don't know what to do exactly and my arms flail around desperately while my lungs suck for air. Unfortunately Zen just seems to take this as something else and pulls away. I don't know why I say unfortunately though; all I can say is that I'm too shocked to move, almost paralysed.

"Do you want me to beat him up for you?" Zap asks playfully, breaking the stunned silence as Zen and I just stare at each other, barely even blinking.

"No." I stutter eventually, "Just get him out of the arena alive. We need to talk."

And then I turn on my heels and click out of the room, walking towards Cets. Zen kissed me, he _kissed _me. Sure, it would have been just about anyone under the circumstances, I hugged ally before I went into the arena and felt so giddy I almost kissed him. If there was someone who I remotely liked I would have kissed them. There, it's no big deal. Nothing personal. Yet why did Zap snigger when Zen said that it wasn't important that I didn't come? I feel my cheeks burning up as I enter Cets and slump into one of the chairs.

"What happened?" Lumina asks when she sees my startled look on my bright red face.

"Zen. Zen _kissed _me. He _kissed _me. Either of you two ever had that before?" I ask. Lumina and Hercules share a knowing look.

"Once." They simultaneously say and I feel I'm missing out on something but I'm too startled with Zen's revelation to say what.

"Listen Kara, just pull through it, ok?" Hercules says, resting his heavy rough hand on my shoulder.

"Ok. I'll pull through, no worries. Not like it meant anything anyway."

Hercules and Lumina share another knowing look.

"I mean, he probably just kissed whoever would have been there. He would have kissed Zap if I wasn't there. Yeah, and that would be a lot more awkward. So he went for me. It's no big deal; he knows he's going to die and, well-"

"Kara, did you just say my tribute's going to die?" Hercules interrupts with mock anger. I look carefully up at the six foot wall of muscle in front of me.

"No." I say slowly, drawing out the word.

"Good, now can we _please _get on with it and talk tributes? The show starts in five minutes." Lumina says, speaking for Hercules.

"OK. Let's talk tributes then. Sponsors?" Hercules asks.

"What about them?" I ask.

"Does Indi have any? How many have you signed her up for?"

"Err... _I'm _meant to sign her up for sponsors?" I ask.

"You mean you haven't!" roars Hercules.

"Not really haven't more, well... haven't."

"YOU WHAT!" Roars Hercules louder, his face red with fury.

"I haven't signed Indi up for any sponsors." I squeak, cowering slightly.

"Well that's good it's Debbie's job then!" Hercules says cheerily and I look at him suspiciously.

"What?"

"Sponsors. Debbie's job."

"You led me to believe that I had made a serious mistake."

"So did you last year."

"What did I do?"

"Turn up."

"What do you mean 'turn up'?"

"What do you think I mean?"

"Ha ha, it's hilarious. Let's all pick on the new mentor why don't we?"

"Well you haven't exactly been pitch perfect this year."

"It's my first year."

"YOU IMPROVISE!"

"Calm down, both of you!" Lumina ushers but we ignore her.

"I IMPROVISE? I LIKE HOW YOU IMPROVISED LAST YEAR. A SAUSAGE? HA HA! HILARIOUS! MY SIDES ARE LITERALLY SPLITTING! ONLY WHERE WAS VIVIAN'S SPONSOR MONEY WHEN SHE NEEDED IT, HUH? WHERE WAS HER SPONSOR MONEY WHEN SHE DIED? SPENT ON A SAUSAGE FOR A PRACTICAL JOKE WITH YOUR MATES. SHOWING OFF NO DOUBT!"

"It wasn't like that. You weren't there." Hercules says defensively.

"I WAS! I WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE!"

"YOU'VE ONLY HAD TO GO THROUGH THIS TORTURE ONCE, I HAVE TO GO THROUGH IT EVERY YEAR. THIS IS THE TWELFTH TIME I'VE DONE IT SO FAR AND I HATE EVERY MOMENT!"

"APART FROM THE SAUSAGE!"

"SHUT UP ABOUT THE DAMN SAUSAGE!"

"WELL YOU KILLED MY HALF SISTER WITH THAT SAUSAGE, HOW CAN I SHUT UP!"

"YOU FOUND IT FUNNY AT THE TIME!

"DO YOU THINK I DO NOW? NOW SHE'S _DEAD_!"

"**SHUT UP THE PAIR OF YOU**!" Lumina screams way above the rest of us and we whip our heads around to see her face bright red and flustered, "We're meant to be a team. We're meant to work together. We're meant to help each other and most importantly the tributes in the arena. Do you want them to die because of your bickering? You're both like children, the pair of you. Grow up! You're victors, you're meant to have a spine. Grow one. Take the insults and apologise. Next time I'll invent a naughty corner and believe me you'll feel pain if you don't get into it!"

Lumina looks positively evil at the moment and madly fuming. I decide maybe it's not the best idea to cross her at the moment.

"I'm sorry Hercules, I was being stupid. You wouldn't have been able to get anything to her in time."

"I'm sorry Kara, the sausage was a crude joke and I shouldn't have done it on your half sister's expense."

"Though it was rather funny." I cut in and Hercules smiles.

"It was, wasn't it?"

Both Hercules and I burst out laughing despite the current situation and Lumina looks distastefully at both of us.

"I'm glad to see both of you are having such a good time but we have tributes to save. Right, Zen has no sponsors, Indi has two." Lumina says and I manage to suck back in enough air to sit up straight and spin to the computer, as does Hercules.

"No hard feelings, eh?" Hercules asks.

"None at all."

Suddenly the static of the screen cuts and it bursts into life and the presenter gives a short speech followed by the words "Let the seventy-first hunger games begin."

And then it cuts to the arena.


	18. A Blessing Or A Curse

**The games begin! Sorry I left you on a cliffhanger for a week... I went on holiday! Heh heh heh! Evil, I know! ;D Well, I hope you enjoy chapter 18 and the first real games chapter "A Blessing Or A Curse". Just so you know, I'm doing another SYOT in about a week once I have finished the one I am currently doing, so if you want to reserve a place just PM me (yes, PM - has to be) the gender, district and back-up district you'd like to reserve and I'll say if it's available. Please make original tributes for it though, the form will come out in a week. It's just to make sure everyone has a spot, that's all! So get PM-ing me if you want to reserve a spot.**

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><p>Sixty seconds. The amount of time it takes to take it all in. The tributes are arranged in a circle around the Cornucopia like normal and the camera swizzles around, taking in close-ups of the tributes' faces and zooming out to reveal the arena. It's basically a large muddy mountain. The odd tree or so is scattered about, the weather looks tolerable if slightly dismal and overall it looks bearable. Just about. The mountain covered in earth and mud plateaus off at the top into a circle where you'll find the Cornucopia. I glance over the map I have just been given on the screen beside it and see that from the winding road that wraps around the mountain like a constricting snake small caverns seem to lead from it into a complex underground maze structure inside the actual mountain. At the base of the mountain, far below the tributes, is the salty sea air which licks the currently placid sea below, gently rolling into the huge muddy mountain. The arena actually looks quite small but I'm guessing that when it gets down to the final handful of tributes it will be quite hard to find each other. So therefore there must be Gamemaker traps. And lots of them.<p>

The ring of tributes surrounds the Cornucopia, the vague grassy area they stand in a loop that ends as soon as it starts and the launch pads are dotted the usual length apart, a few metres or so; about four. I glance at the tributes in a loop and spy out Zen and Indi; they're opposite each other at the Cornucopia. Next to Indi is the career boy from one and then the boy from seven and Zen has the female tributes from the same district. And then something strikes me as odd. In front of each tribute, the closest item to each of them is a backpack. Every single one has an identical muddy brown backpack. That could be worrying; it looks sneaky now I've noticed it. But they haven't.

"The backpack-" Lumina starts.

"I know." Both Hercules and I say at the same time and don't even glance up from the screen. OK, so it's not that discreet, but the tributes haven't noticed it. Even if they have they probably think it's even spacing. That's probably all it is, no need to get worried. Yet something still gnaws at my conscious. Then the gong goes off and any doubts are obliterated as all thoughts fly out of the window in concentration.

I slide around off the main screen so I'm now looking at a screen which is split into twenty-four showing each tribute. I just find Indi running towards the Cornucopia, backpack in hand when the screen jumps and Indi's screen just got bigger. Looks like it's only tracking twenty-three tributes now. We'll have a recap later to see who is dead. I notice both from district eight are still here and I feel relief flood over me. This is stupid, not both of them can live, probably neither of them will. So I keep my head craned over Indi's screen as Hercules next to me does to Zen.

Indi shows a startling amount of speed as she dashes up to the Cornucopia, backpack in hand, and grabs the nearest weapon to her. A blowpipe. I've never seen Indi with a blowpipe and neither has Indi by the looks of it as she grasps a blanket and a large litre bottle of water. That will be a nuisance carrying but it might save her life. I note that a pack of iodine tablets is stuck to the bottle as she charges off and smile. No-one's so much as blinked in her direction and she's darted and weaved out of the bloodbath quickly, scooping up a pair of socks on the way out. She looks almost as if she's just been shopping the way her arms are laden with goods and she dashes out from the Cornucopia, struggles past the waist high grass that surrounded her at first and bounds off down the mountain, taking the left track.

"Left track, what's there?" I ask Lumina and she swivels towards the map, finger tracing the screen.

"Err, it says there's some sort of rock trap near there. It's not disclosing anything anymore. And there's some sort of water droplet. That could be a water trap or water, we'll find out soon enough."

"Two traps?" I ask, "That can't be good."

"No, that's fine. Great actually. Most tributes don't go into them and some traps are so pathetic you barely notice them. There are usually a total of about fifty traps in the arena altogether, it depends. It can stretch from twenty-five to a hundred on a bad year."

"A hundred?" I gasp.

"Well, you stumbled into a fair few in your time. Even that crevasse you pulled the girl from six into was marked as a trap."

"Martha-Rose Fall." I mutter under my breath but just smile to Lumina and say thanks out loud.

"How's Zen?" I ask Hercules after a pause who is staring intently at the screen which keeps on fizzling per tribute death. The picture of Indi has almost doubled by now, that's an eventful bloodbath there.

"He bolted with only the rucksack to go on. And I get the feeling that whatever's in there won't be very useful."

"Bolted? Zen? Isn't he meant to show his true colours in the arena?"

"Not to the other tributes he isn't, otherwise they'd start hunting him down again. No, he's meant to appear weak to them and the Capitol will get his ploy eventually when he starts acting capable on his own."

"Oh right." I say, unsure of what else to say.

The bloodbath is coming to an end now and I see the lights with the tributes faces on them in the centre above the screens dimmed in certain tributes. I hurriedly count the tributes dimmed. Nine dead, nine gone. That leaves fifteen to fight it out now.

"Who died?" I ask, "Which districts?"

"All careers survived intact, no surprise there." Says Lumina as she scans the screen in front of her, "Both from three died. Then so did the boy from six alongside the boy from seven. I think they were going into an alliance before the duo from two got them."

I can't help seeing the nervous little ginger boy fidgeting this morning when I burst on him before going to Zen. I saw him, what half an hour ago? And now he's dead, just like that; it's hard to stomach.

"Girl from nine, both from ten" Lumina continues, unperturbed by my sudden silence, "girl from eleven and finally the boy from twelve. Makes nine tributes dead."

I think about them all, I have studied each tribute carefully so I know what to expect if Indi meets them in the arena. Both from three were around my age, maybe a bit older, and very clever. Otherwise that's about it. They looked underfed, gangly and pretty useless in any sort of combat. District three summed up there in one sentence for you. The boy from six was pretty much the same apart from the fact he wasn't particularly clever either. I didn't expect him to get past the bloodbath honestly, his district partner however I am not so sure about. The boy from seven seemed cute and determined. Just a little twelve year-old and he was brushed out of the way, it's inhumane. The girl from nine seemed sweet and pretty useless. I had her marked down for the bloodbath or tribute hunting anyway. I must admit I thought both from ten would have got a bit further. The boy seemed like a survivor and the girl, while being only thirteen, had something about her and that's something more than the purple streak the Capitol stylists put into her pitch black hair. The girl from eleven was the rude and slightly eccentric one who looked like she got whipped pretty badly back in district eleven. I think the Gamemakers are glad to be rid of her honestly. Then the boy form twelve was much like any other twelve, underfed, overworked and bloodbath fodder all the way through. I'm just surprised the little twelve year-old, his district partner, is still alive. I doubt she'll stay that way.

I swivel around in my chair and find a weird giddy joy in doing so, so then decide to give myself another push. Suddenly the chair topples over and I come crashing down into the main computer screen. I manage to swerve at the last moment and end up landing on Hercules' lap. I'm guessing by the glare I've been getting from Lumina that maybe it wasn't such a good idea and tug myself up, letting out a slight giddy chuckle. Lumina drops the glare almost immediately though, she just finds it impossible to stay angry with someone for too long, especially if that someone is Hercules. But I'll do at a pinch.

"Well, err, how is it all going?" I laugh; a little girlish giggle.

"Quiet! Zen's about to open the backpack!" Hercules shushes me and we all crane into the screen. Zen's the first tribute to appear on the screen now; he's also the first to open the backpack just about every tribute has. He went down the opposite route down the mud mountain from Indi, so to the right. Apparently there's a similar fate for him that Indi has at the moment. Zen zips open the backpack and slowly, carefully, withdraws the items from it. Out of the backpack emerge clothes. Black shorts and a black shirt with a camouflage green zipped up hoodie and smart black universal shoes. It's like a second outfit, why would they do that? To be perfectly honest I don't care.

"Yes!" I yell and punch the air ecstatically. Now Zen's secret won't be revealed. Now Zen will have a shirt on his back at least. Hercules and Lumina give me the weirdest look ever.

"What do you mean "yes"?" Hercules asks and I suddenly realise that since I'm not meant to know about the decomposing clothes as Lumina and Hercules don't that I'm presented with quite a problem.

"They could have been given something more useful, like water, iodine tablets for water purification, food, shelter, anything. Instead they get a spare pair of clothes.

"Err..." I stumble, unsure of what to say, "Just I was glad that they didn't get something... worse."

"Worse?" Hercules asks in a condescending tone which seems to be stating the fact that it couldn't get much worse.

"Yeah, worse. I thought it could be, could be..." I pause, racking my brains and tehn see the rock symbol on the map and smile, "A Gamemaker trap! Yes, that's it! I thought it could be a Gamemaker trap which could prove fatal to Zen."

"This _is_ going to prove fatal to Zen though Kara." Lumina says and I stare at the clothes once again.

This is looking less and less like a blessing and more like a curse.


	19. Coffee And Catfights

**Sorry I've taken so long. I've been working on my new SYOT, "Lost In Translation", which is still open. But I wouldn't count on it for long! ;D I must admit now that I enjoyed writing this chapter too much. Here you'll start to get to grips with the victors, and nothing much happens in the arena aside from one death. It's Kara tellign the story and I wanted to show that, and that she's still there and not just sitting on a sofa watching the games. I'll wind up Debbie later, don't you worry. ;)**

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><p>"Coffee?"<p>

I look up into the rather handsome face of none other than district four's very own Finnick Odair; I pause uncertainly and then accept the steaming mug from his hands. I've never been a fan of hot drinks, they just scold your mouth, burning you and then if you wait for them to cool they're stone cold by the time you get around to drinking them, but even coffee is welcome with the caffeine break it's providing for my drooping eyes. It turns out Cets is a lot more snug than I thought it was. The doors of each control are arranged in a circle so when I go out I find myself in a large space full of sofas, tables laden with drinks and snacks and other victors.

"Thanks." I mutter eventually and Finnick takes that as a chance to invade my space and sit on the sofa next to me. The door to my right leads into the district eight control room so it's propped open for me to check into. I take a quick glance in the direction and see that everything's running nicely. Lumina and Hercules have turned in after I foolishly offered to take the first night shift, even Indi and Zen are asleep in the arena.

"How come both you and Gloria are here at the same night? Won't one of you sleep or something?" I ask and Finnick just grunts, something that even in this place sounds quite hot.

"Your tribute better not kill mine." I say to Finnick, gesturing to the screen where the young fourteen year-old career is trying desperately to match up to the others, especially the duo from two. Finnick merely raises an eyebrow.

"You've come here to chat to me yet you don't want to chat. What's that all about?" I ask causing Finnick to raise the other eyebrow. Eventually he decides I'm fit for his conversation.

"His name's Current Swan."

"It speaks!" I joke and Finnick gives me another look.

"He's a nice boy. He's also pretty much dead." He continues, ignoring my last comment.

"Same here." I say, gesturing to district eight's control room to indicate Indi and Zen. I mean, I can't exactly tell them that Zen's some sort of ninja kid before he's ready to reveal that himself.

"Really? I heard your girl was quite good."

"Indi? She's sweet, but she's young. And she's not a career." I say truthfully. _But she steals for a living,_ I add in my mind.

"I guess so." Finnick says, sucking air between a gap in his teeth. I crane in closer. Finnick Odair has a gap in his teeth? I thought he was meant to be perfect?

"I know I'm handsome and all, but no need to stare." Finnick says with a rather flirty wink in my direction.

"Finnick."

"Well done, you know my name."

"You're not handsome."

"What am I then?" Finnick purrs flirtatiously.

"An idiot." I say simply, stand up and then, on second thoughts, 'accidently' knock my coffee mug, still half full of steaming coffee, onto Finnick soon followed by a suppressed yelp from him and march off back into district eight control, slamming the door behind me. Suddenly the screen fizzles as Indi's face leaps a notch bigger and I hear an angry shout from district seven next door and I see the girl from that district's face flicker out above me. I push carefully on my chair, not wanting to topple again, and spin slightly towards the centre screen. The replay of her death is showing now. It was the girl from six who killed her, Misty. Not the careers, they seem to have decided to stay at the Cornucopia this night, no, this girl somehow got hold of a lethal looking sword as well as a backpack which contained an expensive one shouldered golden dress with a maroon sash alongside a pack of dried meat strips. An interesting combination, but pretty useless. She found the girl patiently sitting cross legged on the floor and approached her, sword drawn. The girl saw her but she didn't move, she barely blinked. Now Misty thought that was an odd thing to do so assumed there might be some sort of trap around her so she crept around to the other side and Isla, that's the girl's name, Isla Woodchip stood up slowly and carefully, turned to Misty and said simply "I'm not going to fight.". Then Misty killed her. But she didn't just 'kill' kill her, she did it slowly. She pricked the girl first, then made huge cuts up her arms with the swords. Yet the girl wouldn't fight. She swung her sword wildly, attacking her, mauling her body. Yet the girl wouldn't fight. She chopped off a finger and then another and another, one by one. Yet the girl just wouldn't fight. I felt so repulsed I wanted to clamp my eyes shut yet the image still burned into my pupils and I couldn't for long. I just stared transfixed at the screen. And the girl, Isla, kept on repeating a small phrase under her breath and I eventually caught up with it _I'm a pacifist, I'm a _pacifist. Eventually she died with the cannon fire that rung across the arena, jolting the boy from eleven out of his sleep.

She did that, she refused to fight or struggle, even then. She is either very stupid or very brave. And I don't think it's the former. Suddenly I hear shouting and slide out of my room just to be confronted with a rather sour confrontation. Johanna Mason is shouting at Whitney, a really horrible catty victor from six. Judging by the amount of swearing that is being used I guess that Johanna's not one happy bunny. I'm not going to even try and think about what they're calling each other, in fact in my head I'll replace each swear word with 'blob' for all sensitive ears.

"You blobby blob!" Johanna yells, "She was a nice kid and your blob of a tribute decided to go and torture her!"

"These are the hunger games, blob face," Whitney sighs pathetically, "You're meant to kill any blobbing sucker that comes your way."

"Not my blobbing sucker you aren't!"

"Misty did well, I just got a call for two more sponsors. It might help her live."

"That blob of a girl better not live, because life will be short lived if she wins and runs into me!"

"Why are you getting so emotional Johanna, it's just a blobbing tribute?" Whitney whines, her flaky white hair specially stylised around her face in fluffy layers a bit like a meringue.

"My blobbing tribute! She was a nice girl you know!" I feel a bit of guilt as Johanna screams that, that's what I said about Indi earlier. Whitney suddenly looked flustered.

"Look Johanna, she was pathetic. A blobbing catastrophe. She wouldn't even fight!"

I now only notice the whole ring of victors on the night shift, one per district apart from four, where Finnick and Gloria are both present, crowding around the pair of them when I feel another cup of coffee pressed into my hand. Is there something wrong with this Finnick guy or something?

"Shouldn't we intervene?" I ask him.

"What and miss all the fun?" he replies. What he says next is drowned out by the horrendous shrieks of Whitney as Johanna lunges at her in fury and savagely rips out a clump of her shockingly white hair. I can't help but suppress a giggle as Whitney's cat-like claws rake down Johanna's back causing Johanna to aim a high kick at her chest, making her shriek in pain as foot hits chest. But Whitney isn't that useless after all, it seems, because she was anticipating the move and clawed under Johanna's leg on her pressure point so it crumpled backwards in defeat. Johanna had just enough time to mutter "damn" when she automatically bent and clutched her leg before Whitney had launched herself at her, arms flailing in anger.

I think the racket must have attracted some attention because Alder wandered in, a shocked look on his face while he took on the scene in front of him, and it was not pretty. What he did next was beyond me. He politely pushed past Gloria (can you politely push past Gloria?) and stepped into the ring where the two girls, or women, were fighting. Frustrated punches were being thrown everywhere but Alder calmly ducked, grabbed Johanna by the waist in her utter surprise and to all of _our_ utter surprise hoisted her up in the air, swinging her away from Whitney. Johanna, ignoring Whitney's smug face, turned on her unknown assailant and kicked backwards, reaching his abdomen. Alder groaned and released Johanna but she wasn't finished with him yet. Shouting some highly dangerous threat to Whitney across the room she lunged at Alder who was now in a pile on the floor and threw a heavy punch at his face, pinning him down.

Judging by the sudden crack coming from around his nose and the groan that surely would have come from him if he wasn't an Avox I'm guessing he's in trouble. Before thinking I dive into the circle too and tug Johanna backwards off him.

"Get off him; he's only an Avox!" I yell at her while she's thrashing against me.

"Well he's lucky he hasn't got a tongue for me to cut out then!" screams Johanna angrily and tries the same move she used on Alder on me. But I'm ready for this and dodge out of the way and stick out a foot, tripping her up and causing her to tumble to the floor. Then I approach Alder and stick out a hand, hefting him up.

"Are you alright?" I ask, then feeling stupid when I remember he can't answer. Suddenly his eyes turn wide just before I feel clammy hands grab my foot and tug me down to the floor. Johanna.

"Volts! Come here and help me out!" Johanna screams and I hear a quiet stuttering male voice.

"I don't know if I should-"

"NOW!" Johanna roars.

Suddenly all of the mentors seem to break off into sections of mayhem. Some fighting with Johanna, some with Whitney, some with Alder and me and some punching anyone who gets in their path; painful, very, very painful.

And that's only the beginning.


	20. The Pleasure's All Yours

**As I previously said, updates will be going slower. Please review and enjoy the chapter! ;D**

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><p>Eventually it ended with yet more searing pain, some ridiculous number such as all of the Avoxes in the Capitol dragging us mentors back into our separate control rooms. I think I managed to take out a couple in self defence while I was at it; punching one square in the jaw causing a loud satisfying crunch and clawing another's face mercilessly but I think eventually I drew enough attention for a swarm of Avoxes to grab me and heft me back into the district eight control room. And we're all banned of going out of it tonight. We're not even allowed to go to the toilet. I think Johanna is even being sedated and I glimpse an old man, bleary eyed from sleep, being hefted into the control room for district seven next to me to keep an eye on their tributes. I gather by the slight commotion that his name is Ash and he's not a very happy bunny. Are all people in district seven like Johanna, even the older people? I shake my head and watch as just about the only action of the night is the boy from eleven trying to get to sleep and falling out of a tree, consequently becoming very bruised and cranky. Otherwise it's a rather uneventful night, but hardly anyone watches the games through the night anyhow, so even if something did happen it wouldn't get as much coverage as it would in the day. And coverage is all about sponsors, I should know that. I had more than my fair share of both.<p>

After what felt like days Hercules enters the room hastily dressed and extremely tired, and he stumbles up to me. I glance at the digital clock wired up on the ceiling which I only just noticed really. 7:26, well it's a reasonable hour to get up and my all nighter is really starting to get into my, adrenaline rush and caffeine boost or not.

"Anything happen?" he asks hazily.

"Nope. Indi and Zen just slept."

"I hope they didn't snore like you did in the arena." Chortles Hercules.

"I don't snore!" I snap immediately and then spring up from the chair, "I'm going to go and get some breakfast, it's because the stupid refreshment table was out of bounds last night."

"Huh?" Hercules grunts in nowhere near a way as sexy as Finnick did last night.

"There was a scrap so we all got shut in out rooms."

"What over?"

"The girl, district seven. The district six girl decapitated her on-screen."

"Oh, so when you said nothing much happened overnight-"

"Johanna went nuts and started having a go at the girl from six's mentor, Whitney."

"Nasty piece of work, she is."

"Johanna?"

"No, Whitney. Johanna's loud mouthed and arrogant but since I'm assuming she stuck up for the girl it shows she has a heart, even if she likes to pretend she hasn't got one."

"Right." I say, purposefully standing up slowly, "I better be off then."

"Oh no you don't, did you get involved with the scrap?"

"Well, everyone did..."

"Not a great first impression Kara, you barely know the mentors. Come on; see how many you can name. Bet you can't get ten. If you can I won't drag you around introducing you properly to every single one."

"Well then, there's me you and Lumina, that's three. Johanna, Finnick, Gloria..."

"Very good, just four more, come on then." Prompts Hercules.

"Err, Whitney. Is the man from seven, Ash is it?"

"Well done. Just two more to go."

"Someone, someone... Volts!" I perk.

"I'll give you that, his name's Beetee actually. Volts is just a nickname. I'll introduce you to him. Just one more."

"That's all." I say with a sigh after a long pause racking my brains, "can't think of any more."

"What about Haymitch?" teases Hercules causing a deep growl to leap out of my throat at my realisation of missing such an obvious one – the drunken mentor from district twelve.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to them all. The tributes are only getting up around now."

"Fine." I sigh reluctantly and feel Hercules drag my arm forwards. We start in the first control room and work out way around.

"There are about fifteen victors from each career district, so these may not be the ones here next year." Hercules whispers to me as we approach the first door.

"Oh, OK." I murmur as Hercules knocks and almost immediately a hulk of a man almost double the size of Hercules whips open the door.

"What do you want?" he growls.

"Just introducing the new victor," Hercules smoothly says, "Kara, this is Evan, Evan, this is Kara."

"The pleasure's all yours." Says Evan and slams the door in our faces. I can barely just get used to the shock when a voice sounds.

"Yeah, he's always like that."

I look around to see the female tribute from one.

"Evangeline, they just call me Evan too though." She says, holding out her hand. After a short pause I shake it, direct a warm smile at her and follow Hercules to the next control room. She seemed, well, interesting. The tributes from two are called Winter and Summer, they're thirty year-old twins and entered the hunger games one year after the other. They seem decent enough but it looks to me they're hiding a vicious streak somewhere, otherwise how could they win? Hercules then guides me to three where I finally meet Beetee and his district partner, a strange almost mad woman called Wiress who just seems to drift away from conversations half way through. Apparently they're proper geniuses and I can tell that, or I would be able to if I understood a word that spewed out of Beetee's mouth. I just ended up nodding politely and moving on and away from lines or formulas and equations being balanced.

I managed to convince Hercules to skip district four, I've already met that pair, and we headed off to five. Both from five are ancient, almost like living skeletons. I picked up the names Sheen and Aura before I hurried myself to district six and smile at the thought. Aura, that's my middle name. I never liked it personally, but evidently she did because she rattled on, trying to start a conversation about how her name was chosen. I of course fled as soon as possible to the next room. Whitney gave me some killer evils as I entered, evidently remembering me from last night. I just can't see her problem; I was attacking Johanna as well as her technically so therefore we should have been on the same side. But evidently not according to the glare on her face. The man there seems nice enough though, he gives me a cheery wave and he looks about in his mid forties. Apparently his name's Bruise, which means I have to suppress a small snigger against it. I point blank refuse to go into district seven's room though, knowing full well how much Johanna would hate me even more if I did so, so we skip straight to nine.

The girl in nine is the youngest victor, even younger than me. Apparently she won a couple of years ago at the age of twelve, so she's fifteen now, just one year younger than me. Her name's Drisabella or Dizzy, but when we got chatting I found Hercules tugging me away insisting we see all of the victors before I started socialising so with a hurried nod to the man there called Terrence we moved onto district ten. Speckles and William (Speckles, what kind of name is that?) barely grunted in our direction as they sat lounging about sipping ice cool water and chatting. Both their tributes were knocked out so I guess they didn't need to worry much.

Next up came district eleven. Apparently usually it was Chaff and Seeder or something like that, but instead Rune and Gnaw met us, a pair I was sure I didn't want to cross judging by the evil glares on their faces in my direction and I see Rune clutch her jaw tightly as if saying something. Oops, maybe it wasn't an Avox whose jaw I popped out of place last night. Finally we reached twelve, the underdog district, where a slurring Haymitch drunkenly clasped me by the hand, something I could barely put up with like the stench of alcohol on his breath. When he tried to kiss me on the check as well I decided I couldn't so hurried away as quickly as I could.

Eventually I staggered back to the control room after swiping a cream filled croissant off the centre table and stuffing it into my face whole. With a loud sigh of relief I collapsed into one of the chairs and gave Lumina a warm smile, but it wasn't returned. I followed her gaze onto the screen and saw a red dot bleeping across the map of the arena, the red dot signifying a tribute. I glanced at the red dot and saw it keep on moving further and further towards a purple dot. I took some time taking this in until I realised what it meant. District eight is a purple dot, so that's either Indi or Zen. And the menacing red dot that steadily bleeped closer and closer towards our unsuspecting tribute was red. Red, red. What district is that? One is lilac, two is grey, three is black, four is deep blue, five is orange, six is light blue, seven is dark green, nine's yellow, ten is almost definitely pink, eleven is white and twelve is red. Red! District twelve. And there's only one person left in district twelve, the little twelve year-old girl. And something seems to be saying to me that something is wrong with her. Maybe it's the way she smiles which just doesn't seem to fit in; an odd, crooked, knowing smile. Didn't she run head first into the bloodbath without fear? Wasn't there something about her that whenever I saw her I could never place? I don't know. But what I do know is that she's coming closer and closer, making a b-line straight for one of my tributes. And whatever happens it isn't looking great from where I'm standing. It looks like they're just about to encounter their first tribute encounter in the arena since the bloodbath. Just hope they stay alive to tell the tale.


	21. Say Yes

**The cliffhanger on the last chapter resolves in about three lines. Actually, it _does _resolve in three lines. This chapter is stirring up the romance and is for all of you Lumina and Hercules lovers. Now, I had this sudden unexplained urge to make this huge thing happen and I thought "I can't do that" and then thought "why ever not?" so I have. You'll find out what I'm talking about when you read the chapter. I am sorry I haven't updated in a couple of days as well, you know how it is. And I'm working on my SYOT as well, but I will try and ensure it doesn't disrupt this. Please review and tell me how you feel about this huge revelation revealed in this chapter. ;D**

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><p>It's Zen and the girl from twelve. They're the first non-career alliance of the games. I just wish he'd picked better. Though she did have some useful items, and being in his 'state' he couldn't seem to be picky. So he allied with the little twelve year-old who really should have died in the bloodbath, causing us all to pull up everythign we can about her but we mainly pulled up a blank overall.<p>

The rest of the day is pretty uneventful. No-one dies quite yet. I expect overnight someone might but Indi and Zen have hidden quite safely in separate small clumps of trees. Safe for now only though, no-one needs to even concoct ideas of what will burst through on the horizon, the Gamemakers have got it covered. I collapse into my bed with an almighty sigh, after having quickly slipped into my smooth silky rich purple pajamas so not to have to stay up one more second than before. I almost jolt as just as I am about to sink into tranquil dreams the door knocks frantically, the sound ricocheting around the room. With a huff I ungracefully pull myself out of bed, gritting my teeth in an inpatient grimace.

I reluctantly tug open the door to find Lumina there, eyes red, swollen and brimming with tears. She's trembling and I put out my arm to steady her as she almost collapses onto it in a fresh torrent of tears. I have no idea what's going on but I do know that it must be something big to be making Lumina upset. Out of all this time I don't think I've ever seen her cry before. In fact no, I haven't. She's always seemed so shy and reliant, steady yet quiet. I never would have expected this to happen. I carefully guide her over to my plush purple bed and help her sit up carefully, using my free arm to steady her body racking with sobs. I smooth down the creases in her shirt awkwardly, busying my hands to cover up the fact that I don't know what to do. She looks almost pitiful, sore read eyes, puffy lips and flushed red cheeks.

"What is it?" I eventually ask while uselessly patting her on the back, unsure of what to do. I've never had to do this before, comforting upset friends. I guess it's because I never really had friends, true friends. They would never show any real, true emotion around me and now I am confronted with comforting Lumina I have no idea what to say, but by the look on her face and the grunted answer she managed to croak out to me it looks like my comforting must have been just about acceptable.

"It's, it's Hercules. You know that he and I, that he and I are-"

"Together, yes." I prompt her, listening inventively.

"Well I was just, you know, chatting to him like usual, as you do. And then suddenly he, he..." Lumina falters and looks up at me, "Can you promise not to tell anyone?"

"I promise." I swear and give her what I think is a reassuring smile; evidently it seems to work because Lumina's sobs die down to a few sniffles.

"He suddenly, out of the blue, went down onto one knee, brought out a little box and took out, took out a ring. And then he said, he said," Lumina pauses, hurriedly drawing in more breath, "he said 'Lumina Carter, would you do the honour of making me, Hercules Stayton, your husband?'."

I gape at Lumina in shock. "Hercules _proposed_? What did you say? What did you do?"

"I bolted. I ran away as fast as I could and ran straight here, to you. What should I do Kara?" she pleads and grasps my hands tightly.

"Do you like him?"

"I _love_ him Kara, and that's the problem. If the Capitol were to know about our relationship they'd exploit it, break it down and use it against us, against him. And I don't think I could bear that. We've always been free of fear that the Capitol would do anything to our family because both of us never had any real family in danger of being reaped. He never had anyone in reapings age in his family after he won and I clearly disowned my whole family in the interviews before my games so any of them going into the games would barely add any spice at all, so little that there's just no point really. But if we were to settle down and make ourselves our own family then, then I can only fear what would happen to them. The children of two victors, they're bound to be reaped Kara. And I couldn't handle that; it would blow my world apart, to smithereens. And I couldn't bear to share Hercules' pain either. I love him Kara, I really do. So the best thing I can do for him is stay away or keep our relationship a secret, but it looks like he doesn't want it like that anymore. We _agreed_ Kara, we _promised_ that we would always hide it and I was beginning to get settled, get used to it. And then suddenly he comes along and turns my world upside-down. And I could never decline him Kara; it's my heart that wants to say yes. But my brain is telling me to say no, but I can't Kara, I just _can't. _Oh Kara, what am I to do?"

"Say yes," I say almost automatically and the promptness of what I just said hits me right in the heart. It's true, what I said and how I feel. This is how true friendly advice should be, the first advice I've ever given and it just feels so right.

"If you truly love him and want to be with him then the Capitol can't spoil that. You might never have children anyway Lumina, you could always adopt over eighteen year-olds just after their last reaping or something, you can face that problem when it comes to you. But think about now, you can continue in secret, hiding everything or you can just let it be known and accepted. Maybe you could have a neat little wedding, tell the Capitol yourself in a little letter that will be stacked in files and files, shoved in the back of the President's wardrobe and be forgotten about. Just have a simple little district eight wedding and then you're with him Lumina, you're _married_. You'd become Mrs. Stayton then, wouldn't you?"

"Mrs. Stayton," Lumina smiles, "It has a nice ring to it."

She stares at bed for a while, massaging the covers between her forefinger and her thumb absent-mindedly as she stares off into the distance. Suddenly she jerks back into reality and hugs me tightly, wrapping her arms around me. She hugs me so tightly I can feel almost all of the air being wrapped out of me.

"You're my best friend Kara, thank you so much."

I smile warmly at her, "best friend. It has a nice ring to it."

I've never had a best friend before; I barely have even had a friend and I feel a warmth spread across my chest with the words and a proud sigh escape my lips.

"Off you go then, you better tell Hercules the good news." I say, nudging her off the bed.

"Oh no!" exclaims Lumina as she springs to her feet with a sudden sense of purpose, "I left him waiting there on his knee, ring in hand. It was a really nice ring as well, sparkling silver with a bold ruby in the shape of a heart smelted into it. I think there might have even been some engravings on it, imagine what they could say..."

"Well off you go then Lumina Stayton," I say with a wink and Lumina hurries out of the room to go and find Hercules. When she leaves the room it suddenly feels more empty than before and a cold shiver vibrates down my spine, fear burrowing its way inside me. Yet I feel more happy than I usually do when I feel that, at peace and ease with myself. I think about it carefully and nod warmly to myself as I replay the conversation in my mind and all the twists and turns it could have taken shape into if I had reacted differently. I smile again to myself and plunge back into bed, my head hitting to soft feather filled pillow with a soft flump. Ease seeps out of me and I feel both calm and tired as the two days without sleep catch up without me.

The smile remains on my face as I remain muttering to myself quietly under my breath with a feeling I said the best total possible thing I could have done, '_say yes_'.


	22. Let's Get This Party Started

**A/N: **Ok everyone, sorry for the delay. A lot of you will know that a lot of stuff is going on in my life, causing me to have to drop Lost In Translation and pass it onto something else just to keep myself up so I can do this. I'm fine for all fo you wondering, and thanks for all of your understanding and concern. Now finally we get to see some action in the games, and I apologise for the delay once again. Review and enjoy then. xD

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><p>"Kara! Kara!"<p>

I groggily wake up to the frantic tugging of shaking hands, jerking me wildly awake.

"Kara, wake up!"

I just about manage to let out a constricted grunt, only to be greeted by a face slowly moving into my eye's careful concentration. A strange kind of mist seems to envelops them for a moment and then slowly and surely they sink into my eye sockets until I realise the shape of the person truly here, emerging from the distant mist of my eyes.

"You... Dizzy?"

I stare up at the panicked face of the mentor from district nine, the girl just one year younger than me. The victor at the age of twelve.

"Kara, Kara, Kara!" she impatiently chants my name in the rhythm of the shaking, "Wake up Kara!"

"I'm up, what is it?" I ask her hurriedly, leaping to my feet in an instant.

"Lumina asked me to get... Indigo's in trouble... run Kara, get going!"

At the panicked scrawl of words dribbling out of her mouth I dash as fast as I can out of the door, ignoring the fact I'm still in my pajamas.

"I'm coming Indi!" I yell in desperation as I charge down the corridor, leaving Dizzy far behind me, standing gazing at me as I skid to a halt inside the circular room which is the middle of Cets. The other mentors give me apologising looks so then I can tell something is definitely not good and I even see Haymitch do one of his weird symbols that is from his home in district twelve. I can't be bothered to analyse it and as his fourth finger on his right hand makes contact with the second finger on his left and they both bend down together in opposite directions I am barging through the doors and skidding as fast as I can into district eight's Cets.

Lumina's worried gaze meets me, an anxious look set into her eyes and she skids to the side on her chair from bending down over my computer, leaving my chair to swing into her place. Without a second thought I launch myself down, scanning all major screens in the room.

"What's happening, tell me what's happening." I panic, wildly gesticulating in the air.

"A trap, Gamemaker trap. You know that symbol of a water droplet Lumina was talking to you about?"

"Yeah?"

"It was a trap, and a nasty one. And Indigo just-"

"Wandered right into it, right, I guessed," I say impatiently, scanning to screens, "so what type of trap was it?"

"A complex one," Hercules grunts in reply.

"Details, details," I whine, tapping at the keyboards in front of me, "what is it, how can she get out, can we help and should we?"

"First things first – the trap itself. It's a pit of water hidden underneath some leaves. Basic but lethal."

"Why the water?" I cut in.

"I don't know. Why the water Lumina?" Hercules groans.

"I don't know either, but it can't be good," she sighs.

"Maybe we can swing this to our advantage," I smile, "can Indi swim?"

"How am I meant to know what Indigo can and cannot do, your her mentor," sighs Hercules.

"Yes," Lumina adds, causing both Hercules and I to swivel around in our chairs to face her, "yes, she can swim. There may not be a swimming pool or anything in training, but the fountain in the courtyard is deep, too deep for her maybe. I saw her in it and rushed to help, thinking she fell in, but it was all a lie. She was fine, she got in herself to swim somewhere."

"She went swimming in a _fountain_?" Hercules asks in disbelief.

"Have you seen the size of the Capitol fountains," Lumina says, giving him one of her impatient 'I-am-so-much-better-than-you looks', "anyone could swim in them, even you."

"Back to the job on hand," I say quickly before they can get into one of their happy couple arguments, "congratulations by the way, the ring's as nice as I thought it would be."

"Oh thank you," Lumina flushes a colour of red to match the heart shaped ruby, "I can't believe you would be so-"

"Shut up and give me info," I snap Lumina back into it and the glazed over look on her eyes disappears," I said we could turn this to our advantage and I mean it. If Indi can swim then she can tread water, sustaining herself. How far does she have to get to the top of the trap?"

Lumina's hand whizzes straight to the screen in front of her and I see her fingers glide across the surface, a electronic ruler appearing out of nowhere and measuring the size of the gap from Indi's hand to the top of the pit. I see a flash of her desperate face panting for air.

"Wait just one minute second; water!" I gasp in surprise as the realisation of this hits me full on, "maybe this wasn't a trap after all."

"What do you mean?" asks Lumina in confusion but I see the thought striking Hercules' face too.

"Well, we haven't found any water in the arena, so maybe, just maybe-"

"This is some sort of hidden well!" Hercules finishes for me with a grin.

"So it's not a trap, that's perfectly feasible I suppose," Lumina nods in agreement, "that just leaves one thing – why has she fallen into it, and why was it hidden anyway?"

"And how do we help her?" adds Hercules.

"It's deep so it's hard for the tributes to get water as well as it being hidden for the same reason. I think we can say that Indi's stumbled upon a goldmine," I grin with satisfaction, "as for helping her, that's easy. A bucket and some rope, give her a bucket and some rope."

"But what if the water's poisonous?" Lumina asks.

"And what will a bucket and some rope do for her?" adds Hercules.

The hopeless and desperate look of Indi choking water gives me all the answers I need.

"If it's poisonous she's already dead anyway, she's taken in too much before, choking at the water. The rope can both be used for collecting water alongside the bucket and hefting herself out of this mess. If she can tie a knot in it then she can lasso that tree branch there," I say, poking an overhanging branch on the screen and turning back to them, "and heft herself up."

"I suppose it's our best shot. One problem though Kara," Hercules admits, gesturing to the screen as I give him a questioning look, unsure about what he's talking about, "that tree branch is dead wood."

The description of the branch I poked has come up in a little bubble on the screen.

_Oak tree, past sapling stage, yet not full grown. Rooted up from the oak tree foundation for its dead yet alive looking quality – dead wood._

I shrug, "it's a risk we're just going to have to take. How much of our sponsoring will the rope and bucket cost her, or rather, us?"

"Half of what we've got, one of her two sponsor's gifts. So then Kara, who do you want to leech dry out of the sponsors?"

"Who have we got sponsoring her?" I ask hurriedly, sensing Indi's panic as she flails around in the water, trying to get a grip on the side of the muddy sides of the pit but her fingers failing, nails clawing at the edge with the same desperation I can sense in her eyes.

"Finego Tachiatelli, ancestry is Italian and retired plastic surgeon, won't be able to suck him for any more. This is his first time sponsoring, otherwise we have Anthony Clearwell, plain ancestry all the way back to the original native people of what used to be called North America and is now Panem, heavy gambler and playboy, received all of his parent's huge funds for being the eldest cutting his younger brother off from any of the family funds at all, younger brother being one of the Gamemakers. Because they don't get on he is allowed to sponsor, otherwise it's because he's a huge sponsor. He sponsors one tribute all the way through. I say you use him first," Lumina takes a pant full of breath, filling her lungs hurriedly, "because he'll just keep coming back with more like a hopeful puppy, doesn't know when to stop. You'll be able to drain his coffers as long as Indi stays impressive. He probably thinks she's cute, maybe one of his many girlfriends convinced him to do it, sponsor her. She looks innocent and sweet, that's just about all. We can combine his and the other sponsor's money if needed for a multi-sponsor life saving present later if her comes back for more. We are just _so_ lucky Debbie got him on our side, he's just going to keep coming back and helping her out. We might ever get three sponsor gifts out of him if he's good enough. I'm telling you – use him first."

"ok, you're the expert," I say into the almost awkward silence after Lumina's huge speech, "we use his money."

"Right," Lumina says with a smile on her face, hands clasped together in a focused position, "let's get this party started then, shall we?"


	23. Datex Data Pads

**A/N: **Lol. Ok. Where to begin... Err, well, I suppose I should say "sorry for the long update", but then again, I don't think I've ever kept you hanging for around about a month solid for an update on Shattered Hearts, not even on my exam week when I still published a chapter. Well, it's a long story... But I'm going to tell you anyway, just because I feel like it. Skip this if you want to keep your sanity:

First of all everything kinda crumbled around me on here causing me to give up practically everything apart from the GH series, which, when you think about it, is an awful lot. I haven't even helped on my co-authored stories for about a month either. It all started when I got addicted to Naruto (which is not a good thing to get addicted to, I can tell you). So when, 3 weeks and 263 episodes in of solid broadband busting later, I discovered the stupid website didn't actually have any more episodes I can safely say I slipped into a deep life questioning depression, or rather, I sulked. Badly. (You know where I can watch ALL of the Naruto episodes online for free - TELL ME NOW! O.o) This was exactly two and a half days ago. So then, face streaming with hot tears, I vowed never to touch the computer again (apart from school work, obviously). This lasted a total of two and a half painful days in which I watched at least five films, totally busted the whole game of 'Harry Potter and the Quidditch World Cup', claiming _almost_ all of the 151 Wizard (or 'Quidditch') cards; plucked enough fur out of my dog to stuff a teddy bear and went on a total out-of-character cleaning spree. Yeah, and that was only the first day. So, after skimming through the harry potter series and tossing 'the prisoner of Azkaban' away in deep frustration I finally launched myself at the computer to check my emails. Why, you ask, check my emails?

Well, when I was getting attacked by angry chefs as I started a manic hunt for apple cores on 'Ratatouille' I suddenly remembered that I had successfully scored bulls-eye on early access for Pottermore (if you have any idea what it _actually_ is please tell me, the whole world is puzzled) thanks to my harry potter freak sister who knows just about anything about harry potter (apart from the names of the 'winged keys' which she soon discovered were not named the 'winky keys' after all and it had been yet another slip of her imagination) and is probably the number one fan, what with convincing me to go and watch the last film dressed as Hermione as she dressed up as Snape and her other two harry potter cronies dressed as Harry and Dumbledore. The same Dumbledore whom donned a pinafore as a beard in lack of an actual mask/wig/face paint/furry white animal. Let me tell you, though I really needn't, when the random granny came up and started taking pictures of us to put on her facebook profile we were far from chuffed. Well, I was anyway. Yeah, I live in a house of maniacs as they drag me into these stupid shenanigans, in fact I suppose a short book about all of these wild 'adventures' or rather, in my case, worlds of torture, would turn out to be much more exciting than this actual book I'm meant to be writing. Talking about books; that's another reason for the delayed update, I started writing a _proper _book. Needless to say it barely got past the first page, but there still is hope. Since every time I pick up a book in a library or a book shop, the first line is actually whether I decide to read it or not, I have been trying to pinpoint a good first line. Therefore a poll is up on my profile about it which you will all go and vote in. Now. I would give you the basic plot but I really don't want any of you stealing my great idea, you see, it happened on here before and so I'm being a teeny bit more secretive about what I'm writing off fanfic. I'm not saying that you personally would do it, but the people who viewed this page just in front and behind of you look distinctly suspicious and are obviously the type of people who would do such terrible things. ;)

So, to fill you all in, that's what has been happening and why such a late update has been heralded. Also this lateness might continue for a while, since I am going away for a week or so and then coming back just to learn my lines for a school production (one I am in this time – I just had a creepy dream last night about going on a school trip to somewhere I wasn't even supposed to be – yeah, that's my equivalent to a creepy dream. Bring on the vampires and ghouls anytime. As long as it's not Edward Cullen. Now that's just creepy. ^_^) and afterwards go back to school where I shall be starting very important exams and what not. By the way – is it _normal_ to fight with your friends _every single day_; because I recently found out the last time my sister fought with her one of her friends was _five years ago_ and that was over virtually nothing, and no-one (apart from myself) has _ever_ made her cry apart from when characters died off in the Harry Potter books such as Lupin; _of course, should have known Snev_. So is it normal that I fight with my friends every single day, like, ever? Ask feebz42, she knows what I mean. Well, I guess I was never normal, but still... FIVE YEARS!

I'll let you go on and read the chapter now. This rant from me is actually about the same size as the chapter. You should have skipped it, you really should have skipped it. Now I can say something which I just _love_ saying... I TOLD YOU SO! =D

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><p>The desperation with which Indi uses to claw at the sides of the well, desperately trying to hoist herself out, gives me new hope. With a sudden burst of fresh strength I press my hand on the panel in front, barely scanning the details and activating the rope to fall down from the sky, fluttering in the form of a glimmering silver parachute.<p>

"Zen would be jealous," I smile, thinking of Zen's uncontrollable need for a rope as his secret weapon, "what is her like anyway Hercules? I mean, you saw him at it, didn't you?"

"What? Oh, pretty awesome," Hercules grunts half heartedly, flashing me a slight glint of one of his mighty smiles. I join Hercules' gaze and see the gasping Indi clutch onto the parachute in fright and hurriedly tear open the paper-like cover to reveal the rope inside.

"Let's put the bucket out now," I say and Lumina nods, flicking a few more switches and hurriedly tapping away at the keyboard, her fingers a flurry of clicks as the almost rhythmic drumming steadies my hurriedly beating heart.

"Activate," I murmur under my breath as I press the command and slap my palm onto the pad as it scans my handprint, "Hurry up," I whine as I see Indi drop the rope and it start drifting down deeper into the pits of the well.

_Sponsor gift activated. Thank you for using Datex Data Pads for your transaction._

As it flashes on the screen for a second time I grunt in dismissal and hurriedly wait as the lime green background fades and I see Indi clutching the rope in her hand, dazed and confused. But she has it.

"Right, you did make sure the bucket landed right at the side of the well, didn't you Lumina?" I ask her hurriedly, fingering off all of the possibilities that could sprout from the moment.

"Affirmative," Lumina jokes, replicating the annoying artificial voice that springs out of the screens in front of us every now and then.

"Good, good..." I murmur, glancing at the screen again and again, my eyes flickering between all of the screens. Suddenly the screen fizzles and the tribute's positions on the screens have definitely grown a size bigger.

"Died, someone died!" I hear Hercules yell and all of our eyes hurriedly dash to the panel above us where the pictures of the tributes are lit up or darkened.

"They're both safe;" Lumina gasps in relief and she swivels along in her chair, pushing to the side, "let me found out who died and how. Indi was starring and then suddenly a tribute died; no warning, no nothing."

"Tal Mark, district eleven," calls out Hercules suddenly, "I don't see why we didn't notice it before, eleven's quite close to eight on the panel up here," he adds, gesturing above us.

"That puts district eleven out of the game. We're safe though?" I ask.

"As safe as we can be, what with Indi hoisting herself of a well, half drowned, using a feeble bit of rope and some dead wood; Zen allied with a weakling who we have absolutely _no _info on whatsoever, whatever we search just turns up a blank apart from her name, and a tribute just having died without us knowing how in the faintest way they did."

"But apart from that, we're safe?" I ask Hercules.

"Yup."

"They're playing the tapes of his death on the main screen now." Lumina cuts into the silence built by our steady concentration.

"What about Indi-"

"She's fine Kara, got out, opening the bucket currently. All she lost was her nerves and some ammo for her blowpipe. They'll play that next though, so we don't want to miss this." Hercules barks at me to watch the main screen. With a quick glance over at Indi's direction i can see what he's saying is true with her gasping for air my the side, flapping around helplessly like a landed fish.

"She hasn't heard the cannon fire anyway, ears were covered with water when she was diving for the rope," Lumina informs me steadily.

Reluctantly I drag my eyes over to the main screen where a silent scene is playing out before me that only happened a few minutes ago. The boy, Tal Mark, is lying in a tree, asleep. He's badly bruised from the two times he's already fallen out and he doesn't seem to be even contemplating tying his belt around his waist to support him. If I was him I'd have kept my two feet firmly on the ground, but then again these are the hunger games, you can't exactly choose that much. You have to put up with things you don't want to; sleeping in a tree is only just the beginning.

Then, as is pretty predictable, he rolls over in his sleep and lands with a deafening thud onto the forest floor. He jerks out of his sleep with a loud shriek of surprise and then hazily notices what's just happened. This of course causes him to swear coarsely and loudly, which only seems to cause his ally to snigger loudly from the bushes beside him. His ally? Wait a second; I thought Zen and Angel were the only non-career alliance in the games. Just to prove me right, before I can even notice what has happened, the boy from district one leaps out from his hiding place and hastily thrusts his spear into the boy's arm, causing the boy to curse even louder. I honestly don't think that's how I would have reacted personally, but different people react to different things in different ways.

Then the boy from district two silently whips out of the bushes behind the boy form eleven, raises a knife carefully to his throat and slits it so quickly that you could have missed it in a blink of an eye, as I almost did. With a quick glance to Lumina and Hercules I can see they also are pretty impressed with this boy's skills.

"What happened to staying to the plan?" calls a voice and the girl from district two skulks out of the woods surrounding, followed by the other careers.

"Come on Sweet, just a bit trigger happy," the boy from one, Toto Byte, whistles flirtatiously.

"If my name wasn't Sweet Bliss I'd have slit your throat already for your choice of words. As it is, your tone is far from desirable, _Toto_," she spits out his name as if it was poison and continue glaring at him menacingly.

"Come on guys, break it up," calls the fiery haired Boudicca, stepping between them to prevent a fight as she notices the girl's arm muscles tense slightly and edge towards the knife held in her belt.

"Yeah, yeah, break it up!" repeats the boy from four, shadowing Boudicca's actions desperately, trying to imitate her.

Juniper stands silently by the side, shuffling awkwardly and brandishing a long, thin simple sword which she silently nudges back into her belt. The boy from two and career leader, Wolfgang Lupe, surveys the scene with cool, unblinking eyes.

"We move," he says, his voice barely a cold whisper yet sends a callous message right into the careers' hearts.

"Right sir, yes sir!" yelps Current, Finnick's tribute and hurries off to the left. Wolfgang slowly edges to the right, Sweet shadowing him instantly. Current, when noticing that they've started off in the other way from him, dashes off and jumps eagerly behind Toto who's tried hopelessly to try and strike up a conversation with Sweet. Juniper shuffles along behind them, dragging her feet, and then glances back to see Boudicca, the fiery-haired girl from one, eyeing the body with disgust and a glint of something else which I can't detect.

"His name was Tal Mark, district eleven; he was the oldest of six siblings at the age of fifteen. His parents worked day in and day out and managed to support most of the children as well as their separate sets of parents. Tal struggled to feed the rest and often went hungry himself. His parents already had a," Boudicca pauses uncomfortably before spitting out the words from her mouth, "_suitable wife_ picked out for him the instant he turned sixteen. That would have meant he left his younger siblings to starve, but he had no choice. The hunger games were a lucky escape, some might say."

Boudicca snaps her jaw and glances up to see Juniper eyeing her with interest. She simply returns the gaze until their eyes lock and then heads off after the others.

"Come on, we better catch up with the others. They'll be wondering where we are." She sighs and jogs off, Juniper following her. The last I hear before the cameras cut back to Indi is Juniper muttering something under her breath. My ears strain to pick up what she said. Finally my brain processes the very words.

"I'd swap his body for hers any day."

And somehow, even though it may look like it, I know deep down that the 'her' she's murmuring about isn't Boudicca, the 'her' she's talking about is me.


	24. Now We Have A Hope

**A/N: **Just in case you're wondering, Zen does NOT kill Angel in this chapter, he merely snatches something from her. Just my rather pathetic writing might make it seem otherwise. ;) Hope you enjoy this and review. I'm writing this at 10pm in the evening before I go away for a week tomorrow, so don't expect an update too soo then, just warning you.

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><p>Arms are shaking me urgently, jerking me awake. Groggily and bleary eyed I groan and look up at the shocking yellow hair and dazzling smile of none other than my stylist friend, Zap. After I went to sleep at about four in the morning earlier today I thought I would have been granted at least an hour or so sleep, but evidently not.<p>

"Why?" I yell suddenly, causing Zap to jerk forward in surprise, "why am I always woken up every single morning by someone shaking me awake? Why, just why? Can't I have one day where I awake with a gentle yawn and meander down to breakfast as I please, or is that just too much to ask of life?"

"Sorry Kara, just Debbie wanted you," Zap apologises.

"Debbie wanted me, eh?" I ask, early morning grogginess transformed into anger dripping from my mouth like poison, "then why didn't Debbie _wait_ for me?"

"She said it was urgent, Kara," insists Zap.

"What's happened now, has she misplaced her wart ointment?"

"No," Zap says perfectly sensibly, "she says that it's not decent of you to be asleep at one o'clock in the afternoon."

"One o'clock!" I exclaim, "what am I doing asleep at one in the afternoon?"

"Precisely Debbie's thoughts, well, as I can gather. You know what she's like."

"I do," I grunt and heave myself of bed, then usher Zap out of the room with a call of, "you may see plenty of not decent women as a stylist, but I don't plan to be one of them. Now go away while I get dressed."

With a slight chuckle from Zap I slam the door and slip my nightie over my head and jump into the shower. Every time I'm at the Capitol it still amazes me how the extravagance of every little daily detail is turned into some sort of ritual. After an almost ice cold shower due to the lack of knowledge on how to change the temperature and not wanting to have and go and get Zap I leap out and slip on the same rippling blue dress I wore originally on the train. Thinking about it, it looks quite like Juniper's chariot ride's dress. Is that all Ally does, like Zap, just steal other's ideas? No other this Cinna seems to be better than him, if he can come up with original ideas like that fire dress of his then it wouldn't be a wonder if he surpassed even Ally someday.

Gradually I lug myself to breakfast, or rather lunch, and see none other than podgy, rainbow-braided Debbie waiting there, smiling at me through a mouthful of something that looks remarkably like some sort of stuffed fish.

"What's up Kara?" Debbie calls. Err, that's a bit of an odd question to ask.

"The ceiling..." I murmur, confused.

"You moron, I, the Debster, be gettin' accustomed to the language of the streets, man. Yo," Debbie hastily adds at the end of her string of random sayings awkwardly put out with her posh Capitol accent.

"Well, 'Debster'," I snigger at the name, "I think you should maybe just talk normally." This seems like the right thing to have said since Debbie lets out a huge puff of air.

"Phew, that was hard to keep up with Kara, do you think I managed to do it successfully though?"

"Worked like a dream," I automatically lie and swipe a hunk of fish off Debbie's plate to her absolute horror. I snigger a bit at her expression.

"Keep your wig on Debbie; it was only a piece of fish."

"As I have often informed you before, Kara, I do _not_ own a wig, just several hair extensions." Debbie bristles slight, obviously a sensitive area there. Best not to poke it if you don't want to annoy Debbie. Unfortunately for Debbie, annoying her is one of my favourite past times.

"Hair extensions? Aren't they basically a wig?"

"No!" Debbie hurriedly snaps, "the man in the shop _assured_ me that they were totally different items of head arrangement for those with the lack of hair."

"Wait a second Debbie," I pause, a small smile creeping to my lips which seems to depict me thinking that my birthday had just come early, "are you telling me you're _bald_!"

"Oh no!" Debbie yells, leaping to her feet hurriedly with a tiny glance to her watch, "look at the time, I must dash. It'd be nice to catch you later Kara, ta-ta!

"Err, 'ta-ta'," I say, mimicking Debbie's ridiculous parting saying before heading straight to Cets.

When I get there Lumina smiles sweetly, nods in my direction and rushes off without saying a word. I'm just about wondering what that was all about when I realise she had her mouth stuffed full of some sort of Capitol treat, probably chocolate; which is _much_ better than hot chocolate, you don't burn your tongue or anything.

Groggily I swivel around to the main screen and, to my surprise, see Indi sitting there, practising with her blowpipe. Then it flickers to the careers, trekking through muddy terrain with the odd whine soon covered up from Finnick's boy, Current.

"Hey Zen," Angel chirps up, suddenly on the main screen. The main screen since nothing much else is happening at the moment really, as I seem to have noticed. Conversation seems like a bliss to the Gamemakers, soon they'll be launching a terrible attack if this lack of action keeps up – mark my words. Zen is concentrating at the few stray pieces of some sort of plant fibre clenched in his palms, trying desperately to weave them together, though unfortunately not very successfully. He just grunts in reply, trying to concentrate on binding the fibres.

"Well, what are you doing?" Angel asks, causing Zen to scrunch up his eyes in desperation, but eventually he sighs and opens them again to see the sight of Angel's pitiful face.

"I'm _trying_ to make a rope out of this, unfortunately that's all it is."

"All what is?" chirps Angel, causing Zen to grit his jaw yet again in frustration.

"All _it_ is, it's only trying. It's not working," Zen says, spelling it out for her in frustration. Angel makes an 'o' shape with her mouth and then goes back to organising her bag in silence.

"But Zen," Angel adds.

"What is it?" he grunts at her, evidently annoyed.

"Why are you making a rope?"

Zen's face scrunches up and even I can feel his desperation from the other side of the screen. He can't say he wants to use it as a weapon, but it's fair enough for him to want to make rope.

"To set traps, catch tributes, the list would go on. Seriously, it would be useful. I have this one trap on my mind-" Zen's voice slowly drains off.

"Yes?" prompts Angel, timid and almost scared of talking, her voice quiet and shy as it usually is.

"Well, I tried it in my private training session with the Gamemakers, but it failed," Zen says, and then seeing the worried look on Angel's face cuts in reassuringly, "but I think I know what went wrong there, and what to do now."

Angel's face began to crumple up with worry, but then she just sighed and turned back to rummaging in her rucksack.

"One more question, Zen," she chirped.

"Yes, what is it Angel?" growls Zen reluctantly.

"Why don't you just use the rope we've already got? I mean, that would be easier, wouldn't it?"

"What?" Zen asks; a gormless look of surprise on his face.

"The rope I got at the Cornucopia, why don't you just use that?"

"Rope? Cornucopia? You've already got..." Zen gulps.

"Of course," Angel says sweetly, pulling out the rope from her rucksack. Zen automatically leans longingly towards it, his breath almost as paralysed as his body as he slowly edges toward it. Then suddenly without warning, like a viper, he strikes. He plunges towards the rope and snatches it with nothing but a slight stunned objection from Angel, cradling the basic string which has been woven together to make Zen's secret weapon. Angel's shocked face is broadcast as she stares at the excited Zen, having snatched the rope from her very arms.

"Now," I say out loud to the beckoning silence around me, "now we have a hope."


	25. I Want To Stand By You

**A/N: **This is a very short chapter, but it has a song in it so don't worry. A few of you have asked for more of the games bacause the chapters have started to seem more like fillers, but I'm afraid I'm going to continue on the path I've chosen for this story anyway. I can tell you that it will have more games chapters as the games progress anyway though so it doesn't really matter, only the games haven't got kick started yet, and these chapters are clearing a few things up. First of all - we have a lovely song for all of you to bask in for this chapter. Secondly - a few of you asked about Dizzy, in fact many of you were intruigued about her, so that is what this and the next chapter focuses on - Dizzy as a character. I hope you enjoy this and review. One more thing to mention - this is half way through Shattered Hearts. like Gnawing hunger, I am aiming for 50 chapters, including an epilogue if needed, so you'll be pleased to hear that this, being chapter twenty-five, is the middle chapter. Half way through - whoo!

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><p>Hercules takes over with a groan after a few more hours of uneventful waiting. We don't even have the boy from eleven to fall out of the trees any more. I wander around Cets aimlessly for a bit, striking up a conversation here and there and ignoring the killer evils both Whitney and Johanna are giving me, a few other people alongside. Winter and Summer; the twins from district two, are actually quite fun to be around, and I throw a few jokes at them half heartedly before sinking into the seat and watching the busy hubbub of Cets swirl around me, surrounding me with movement like some sort of tribal dance, the moves too complicated for me to even start to understand. I slowly feel myself sinking into the rhythm that everyone else has taken to like a needle to cloth and suddenly I feel my voice becoming active and myself singing quietly to myself under my breath so no-one will hear me.<p>

_I want to laugh with you,_

_I want to share in happy giggles,_

_I want to stand by you,_

_Stand by you and it's not fickle,_

_I want to cry with you,_

_I want to share in mournful tears,_

_I want to stand by you,_

_Stand by you for all our years,_

_I want to sing with you,_

_I want to share in harmonious notes,_

_I want to stand by you,_

_Stand by you for it's you I dote,_

_I want to smile with you,_

_I want to share in loving beams,_

_I want to stand by you,_

_Stand by you, just you and me,_

_I want to breathe with you,_

_I want to share in steady breaths,_

_I want to stand by you,_

_Stand by you until our deaths,_

_I want to stand by you,_

_I want to hold both of us up,_

_I want to stand by you,_

_Stand by you and stand by us,_

"Kara?"

"Huh?" I grunt, staring up from the steaming cup of coffee clamped into my hands to see the face of none other than Drisabella, the female victor from district nine. "Oh, it's you," I sigh, bending my head back down again to stare at my drink.

"I thought you might want to, well, say hi," Dizzy pauses, her eyes darting from me to the coffee and back up to my face, "you certainly look tired."

"Oh? Yup, I'm tired," I groggily sigh, sinking back into the sofa, trying to relax as much as I can.

"So... your girl is still alive, then?" Dizzy questions, glancing again from me to the rapidly cooling cup of coffee which I still haven't even taken a mere sip from.

"Yes... yours was, yours was... well, wasn't she?" I gulp, tugging my eyes from the coffee to settle on Drisabella's face. Her eyes are a dreamy grey and seem prominent over her pink-ish face, her hair has been dyed a deep navy blue and is short cut so it rides in a bob above her shoulders, two straggly strands dipping down at the front. Her face seems shy and quiet and the way she glances around makes her seem almost furtive. She's wearing a red and white stripy t-shirt which looks slightly like one of those traditional sailor's tops only it's red instead of the deep blue and almost black her hair represents and also she's wearing some black skinny jeans, constricting her skinny and underfed figure, which still seems to have been kept up even though she's a victor.

"Yes," Dizzy gulps, "Kimmy died in the bloodbath, not much to it really..."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I say automatically, reciting the first thing that you're meant to say when the subject of death comes up. Yet still I feel awkward, since I've never had a dead tribute. "Did you... were you mentoring the girl from nine last year as well?" I gulp, afraid of the answer.

"Yes," Dizzy nods simply, hiding her face slightly with her arm, "I was."

"I... she never got picked up from the hovercraft did she, I mean the wooden alligator had completely..."

"Yes," Dizzy nods again, "Tara's body was never returned to her district. The alligator... the alligator completely, well, you know."

I nod compliantly, unsure of what else to do. What else am I meant to say, I gazed over her dead body after all, in its bloated form from the wooden alligator mutt's huge, bulging stomach.

"You, you won your games at the age of twelve, didn't you?" I ask suddenly, trying to steer the conversation away, but only landing on a worse subject.

"Yes," Dizzy says simply, lifting her head up with a blank placid look plastered all over it.

"Err... how did you, how did you..."

"How did I do it?" Dizzy asks, causing me to nod slightly, "I can't tell you that."

"Oh..." I sigh, turning my head. She is entitled to keep her own secrets, and parts of her which she wishes could be locked up forever.

"But I can show you if you want, they keep the recordings of the games in a storeroom and you're more than entitled to see it." Dizzy adds offhandedly, causing my brow to furrow.

"You'd... you'd let me see them?"

"Of course, you've probably seen them already, just forgotten. They're the sixty-eighth hunger games," Dizzy says, her face blank and as devoid of emotion as before.

"So... so I just go and watch them then?"

"Sure, but you'll excuse me if I don't watch them. I find that they stir up memories inside me which are best left... unperturbed."

"Of course," I nod again, standing up slightly. Just as I'm about to leave the room, tapes in hand from the cupboard after hurriedly tugging out the sixty-eighth, I turn around the Dizzy again, seeing her placidly sitting on the sofa, my mug of cold coffee in her hands, staring into the swirls, "thank you," I call and then step out of Cets and head towards my room. Now I can find out what I need to know, what I need to know about Dizzy and how she won her hunger games. After all, she reminds me an awful lot of Indi. And if I find out how Dizzy won, I can find out how Indi might be able to win. The only problem is; I'm afraid of the answer.


	26. Drisabella Combe

**A/N: **Drisabella might end up taking over for another chapter after this, actually, since I couldn't get through everything I wanted to say in this chapter, but I hope she's opened up to you here, even though it seems like she's done the opposite really, she seems weird here but you'll just have to understand her, which is hard to do, no-one does...

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><p>I find myself back on the fluffy pink sofa Ally dragged me to just over a year ago to see my reapings and everyone else's. The memories start to flood back to me, the fear, the guilt and the certain death looming over me as it did everyone else, the unimaginable odds stacked against me. Yet I fought them, I fought all of that and I came out victorious, I came out on tope; or so I thought. I never won; I never completed and fulfilled everything I should have. No, it was those other twenty-three that won. I may be the victor but really I am the only one who lost, for I am the one who has to sink into eternity with the guilt resting on my shoulders, the deaths of those other twenty-three people right there, sticking up to me. That's them, that's how it is.<p>

But, as my hand flicks the tape into the machine, feeling it suck the tiny square box into its realm, gobbling it down, I know I will just re-live everything in that dratted arena once more, but I have to do it, for Indi's sake at least. So I suck in my breath and press the play button guiltily, waiting patiently for Dizzy's games. I try to think back to three years ago and the games that played then. I remember the sixty-ninth because then a girl called Annie Cresta won. I remember it so vividly because she turned mad in there, in the arena. Her eyes went hazy with madness and she was the true victim of those games without a doubt, yes, she was the true victim of her games.

Then the static fizzles out and a great fanfare erupts around the room. I jump in surprise just to find it's something the Capitol call 'surround sound', and I can tell why it's named that. The hunger games logo fizzles on the screen and then the screen bursts to life. One by one the tributes' reapings are carried out. At first there's the careers; the usual ruthless bunch apart from both from one who seemed to be scrawny and weak. Then the boy from three is muscular and huge, a turn in the tables if there ever was one, then the tributes from five to eight are just the normal sort. I flinch slightly when I see the tributes from eight, yes, I remember them. A girl called Satin and a boy called Jasper, they were barely twelve, the pair of them; and I remember what happened to both of them. Jasper died in the bloodbath and Satin had her throat slit overnight, a typical district eight death to the both of them. But because they were so young that's what hit me. Then the camera shoots to district nine where the tributes are being picked. A boy of the age of about seventeen walks to the stage as his name, Carlos Jones, is called. His sandy blonde hair scruffily piled upon his head is soon forgotten though, when the girl of the district comes up – Drisabella Combe, or Dizzy for short. She has a short black bob, curling around her face and almost angelic features alongside her icily pale skin, but she blinks mercilessly and steps up onto the stage coldly. Not a single person cheers, cries or even says everything; there is just the silence and the steady sound of the whistling wind.

And as soon as it's started it flickers over to district ten's tributes where a definite sexy lurks, licking her lips at the camera and looking without a doubt like a cat, according to her she's the 'cat among the cattle', which appears to be some district ten saying, which is ridiculous, I might add. We all know it's the 'cat among the cloth' over here in district eight. Anyway, eleven and twelve are basic and then it runs to the chariot rides. Everything plays as expected, great career costumes and rubbish non-career costumes. Dizzy comes out, blankly staring ahead, unblinking, uncaring, as the crowd rustles packets and chats un-interested around her, the odd wolf whistle to Carlos in his tight black top and shorts, Dizzy looks un-interested in her matching outfit, them ignoring the other as if they didn't exist.

The sexy girl from ten then bursts out and all of the attention is flickered over to her in her tight fitting cat outfit, whereas her district partner is dressed as a cow. I can understand what they mean that she looks like a cat, and I can already see Capitol enhancements having altered her looks. It really disgusts me, but she already looks victor material and I wouldn't be surprised if that was one of the non-career victories that year, just only district ten instead of nine. If I didn't know how everything turned out I wouldn't have thought that Dizzy would have won at all, I would have just thought she would have died in the bloodbath. Ah well, that's how it goes.

Then it flickers to the training scores, the first two careers getting fives, then the others getting between seven and nine's, the boy from district three getting a nine and the rest getting six or under, including Satin and Jasper from eight who hit a four and a three. Then Dizzy's face flashes with an eleven under it suddenly, flickering off to the boy from ten and then the girl from his district with a ten. Then suddenly the commentators ask to check that there wasn't a mistake with the scores, and it being verified and then it's decided that yes, that was the score – the girl had indeed got an eleven.

My mouth is hanging open at this point. An eleven? Dizzy was simply unimpressive and suddenly the placid and blank look on her face is wielding an eleven under her belt. How the heck did she do that? It doesn't really matter though, I'll soon find out, won't I? The interviews pop up and the careers do their usual 'I'm so brilliant' technique, though the eleven is still hanging in the air. The boy from three aims for the career's angle as well and scores it quite well; I can see people eyeing him impressively. Then both tributes from eight are coming up, saying the average things, stepping off until it's Dizzy's turn. She stands up, wearing a plain black dress, nothing more or less, walks steadily and slowly, almost stealthily towards the chair, sits down and stares at Caesar, a placid expression on her face.

"So you're Drisabella, the mystery girl. Have you got anything to say about yourself since everyone is _dying_ to meet you?" Caesar chirps, his plum purple hair jollier than it has been before. Dizzy pauses, a long, thoughtful pause, and finally opens her mouth, the words that come out thoughtful and planned as the Dizzy I've noticed.

"I'll be the one dying," she says simply and Caesar lets out an uncertain chuckle, trying to determine whether it was a joke or not. By the expression on her face I'm going by _not_.

"So, you got friends; family back home that are cheering you on?" Caesar asks happily.

"No," Drisabella says without hesitation.

"You must at least have _someone_, come on, don't be shy," Caesar teases.

"No, I have no-one, no-one has me," Dizzy simply says, her face blank and devoid of emotion.

"But what about your parents, where are they?" Caesar asks.

"I honestly don't care, can we move onto something worthwhile?" asks Dizzy turning her face to the side, uninterested.

"Yes, yes of course! I suppose you know what we're all thinking, don't you?" asks Caesar merrily, winking at Dizzy yet at the camera at the same time.

"Yes," Dizzy says plainly, her voice steady and even, almost robotic and the way she says that sending shivers down my spine.

"Your-"

"My eleven, you want to know how it got it."

"That's right," beams Caesar, "you're going to tell us now, aren't you?"

"I suppose I better," sighs Dizzy and the audience almost seem to lean in, "I got my eleven by being me, that's all there was to it."

"That's quite a tricky answer, come on; spill the beans, what's your weapon?"

"I don't have one," Dizzy says simply, "not one I have in the physical dimension, not one people can take away from me."

"Ooh, that sounds exciting!" Caesar grins.

"No, it isn't," Dizzy says simply, and then turns her face blankly to her hands, staring at them.

"Well our time is up," Caesar lies to save the interview and the clock I've been watching all of the time jumps from 1:26 to 0:00 and an alarm bell rings to signify the end of their time talking. Everyone else is predictable, the girl from ten is perfectly vile and reminds me of Misty in a way, and everyone seems to be doing the same thing. Then the alarm rings, Caesar finishes the interviews and then, and then, then it cuts to the games.

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><p><strong>AN: **Ooh! Dizzy and her games... interesting, interesting... Also, on a cheerier note, on my profile I have created (just for my wonderful fans) a Gnawing Hunger Series thingymabobby, where you select 12 characters and then talk about (2) and (7) sharing an ice cream, and how (12) would feel about it, you know, useless profile tat which is just _so_ cool. Well I want you all to do it, yes, ALL of you, even if you don't have an account, and yeah... stick it on a review, PM it to me or even shove it on your profile, please? PLEASE? Just, aside from spreading publicity which is always my evil motive, I'd love to see what you all think of all of the characters and have a bit of the laugh along the way... so go and do it NOW! And yes... just review first, but do it now anyway, it's really fun! And tell me if you've done it so I can read it, because I really want to, it's make my day (and maybe help me update faster)! P


	27. Destruction Lying In Her Wake

**A/N:** Okay, I got through virtually nothing in this chapter, but it's a long one and hopefully you'll enjoy it. I'm aiming to have only one more chapter of Dizzy's games though, and that's it. Then, after that, it'll be over and we can go back to Indi and Zen and all of those amazing people we love.

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><p>"My guess is that the arena is, quite simply, a giant cake. And not just any giant cake, oh no, it's a <em>triple chocolate flavoured<em> giant cake," chirps the peppy female commentator I remember briefly from my childhood, bursting happily out of the plasma screen television. I believe this was her last year that she blessed us with her presence, either that or the year after with the mad girl from district four named Annie Cresta. Either way, things didn't quite turn out as planned and she got the rather harsh end of it, really. As in, she choked on a pickled olive which she just_ happened_ to be allergic to. _Happened_ being the magic word in that sentence.

In the end the arena doesn't turn out to be a triple chocolate flavoured giant cake as the commentator predicted, in fact, it turns out to be quite normal, well, as normal as an arena full of helpless victims and terrible traps can be. The Cornucopia is surrounded by a tall forest, and that loop of trees goes on pretty much for a few miles, then after that there's a wide river which seems pretty hard to cross which loops in a circle around the seeming island that it has sort of become. Past that it gets more humid and the forest gets denser and seems to be full of more dangerous creatures, calling out with wild calls and weird noises. But the non-career tributes look like they'll be forced to venture there.

The whole arena in itself it sealed off quite simply by being in some sort of crater, vertical cliffs surrounding it in a circle all the way around, yes, there's no escape. All of the tributes wear something which reminds me of Dizzy's chariot rides clothes. They have short tight-fitting black t-shirts and black shorts with long, woollen black socks and huge chunky army black boots. I'm guessing whoever designed the outfit that year was either obsessed with black or knew something we didn't, probably both.

Dizzy stands on the launch pad, face as blank and emotionless as ever, never giving anything away, and I find myself following her eyes. Yet unlike everyone else's they aren't glancing around the arena, checking out the competition or focusing on an item in the Cornucopia, no, her eyes aren't even gazing at the floor; her eyes are closed gently like you would when sleeping, then, before I can fully process what she's doing, the gong goes off. The tributes scurry to the Cornucopia madly, grabbing as much as they can as if in a crazed daze and fighting each other, weapons flying in the air in a flurry and clash of metallic steel, yet Dizzy calmly takes one step forward with her eyes _still closed_, sticks out a leg simply to the left of her, tripping up the boy from eleven who has a dagger in his arms, sending him tumbling down onto the very dagger her was holding.

The cameras immediately whoosh over and start replaying what happened, but I ignore the boy as much as I can and his dying cries of pain, and keep my eyes firmly locked onto Dizzy, with her steady breathing and eyes gently shut like you would do when you asleep. Dizzy simply, eyes still shut; bends down, turns the boy over, and removes the dagger calmly as if sleepwalking, then tucks the still bloodstained dagger up her sleeve and gently returns to where she was, a few paces in from the launch pad; and then she lies down.

Lies down? What is she doing, what does she think she's doing? That's just ridiculous, how is that going to benefit her at all? But she, eyes closed, lies down; and I can't see a single breath coming from her. What? Is she dead, then how? What's going on? The bloodbath soon dies down, the echo of endless screaming that has pierced my brain forever too; and the madness there was just a moment ago is as calm as can be. I scan the careers carefully, keeping one eye on the resting body of Dizzy. Both from district one don't appear to be here, but their numbers are made up by the muscular boy from three and the cat-like girl from ten, both whose district partners seem to be lying down dead beneath them heartlessly in a crumpled heap like no bodies should ever be. Both of the new careers are just like the corpses below them - unblinking, uncaring, unloving. That's just what I'd expect from a career really, you train up for the hunger games just to die, with a minuscule chance of winning, but that chance is something you just have to take, because if you don't grasp it, if you don't get it in time you'll be stuck there, halfway there in limbo as you don't belong anywhere, anywhere at all. That's the way it is, that's the way it burns your heart and soul when you become a career from a non-career district. I should know. I was the one who stood there and took it all like that; I was the one who had to live with it, and they're the ones who will have to die with it, that burden of pain and non-belonging, that struggle and fight for survival, they tried grasping onto that ledge of life but they couldn't hang on so they fell into the crevasse of pain, pain, tears and one other thing. That other thing? Well, it's simple; it comes with life yet is the opposite to it, that other thing is quite simply death.

"Who's dead?" the girl from four asks, looking like self appointed leader from this angle, her face one daring anyone to say otherwise.

"Oh _darling_, I believe that's my line," purrs the cat girl, grinning sheepishly at the girl from four, a look of total and utter defiance smeared across her cat-like features.

"What are you implying?" the girl from four growls, her face flushing red with anger.

"I'm _implying_," the cat girl purrs, and suddenly she flicks her fingers and in a flurry I see some sort of hidden dart whoosh out of them and hit the girl from four square on the chest, causing her to crumple on the ground, "I'm _implying_ this!"

Then the girl from four, without even a screech, becomes deathly still on the floor, death hidden on her face now so apparent.

"Is she..." the boy from four, the girl's district partner asks.

"No, but she soon will be," answers the boy from three simply, kicking the girl from four's paralysed body heartlessly before sneering at the cat girl, "come on, it's _your line_,"

"Right then," the cat girl trills in satisfaction, "_who's dead_?

There is a small shuffle from the careers and they step around, looking at all of the bodies in succession, waiting patiently and sensibly in fear of the cat girl from ten. Looking at her Misty seems sweet and gentle in comparison, and that's saying something the way she tortured that girl from seven. The districts are simply listed off like numbers by the careers as the cat girl nods without even seeming to care, maybe that's all they were really to her; numbers. Well now she's the number, yet another death piled up in the stack of the hunger games' pain. And I'm fine with that, she's dead, I'm absolutely fine with it. And that's why I'm a monster at heart.

"Girl from one, girl from three, both from five, both from seven, boy from eight, girl from nine, boy from ten, boy from eleven, both from twelve. That makes twelve, half of them killed in one fell swoop, not to mention the... girl from four that'll die soon." The boy from two lists simply, pausing slightly uncomfortably at the end, flickering a furtive glance to the cat girl.

"Really makes you think, doesn't it?" chirps the cat girl insensitively, not really thinking at all, "we must be one strong career pack this year, then."

At the lack of reply from the others she demands for them to step back and let the hovercrafts pick up the dead tributes, so the careers automatically follow her commands and step back cautiously, wondering what's going to go on. But the hovercrafts don't seem to be coming, so the careers retreat a bit more, and with the first cannon fire strike symbolising the dead tributes from the bloodbath Dizzy strikes.

The moment the sound echoes around the arena the supposedly dead Drisabella Combe leaps up to her feet and dashes towards to the Cornucopia where the career's mighty supply is, towering above her inside the glistening golden Cornucopia, quicker than anything I've ever seen before. The Careers can only stare in awe, unsure of what to do and what just happened, as she grabs a bottle of some sort of liquid, tips it over all of the supplies, and at the eleventh strike from the cannon fire runs away at full pelt with only a bottle of water, a blanket and a box of matches gripped tightly in her left hand, her right carefully tugging at the box of matched. Then the careers seize into action, half of them running towards the supplies and the other half over to Dizzy. The cat-like girl and the boy from three charge after Dizzy with great gusto while the boy from four and both tributes from two hurriedly gallop over to the supplies. With a simple glance over her shoulder with her now opened eyes, Dizzy then strikes a match and lobs it over the two careers from the non-career district's head. The match seems to move in slow motion, twirling through the sky as it gently glides there, still for a moment as a lone light in the sky, basking in its radiance. Then it hits the supplies drenched in the strange black-ish liquid Dizzy had wrenched from the pile and poured all over it, right next to the careers. There's a pregnant pause, everyone waiting for something, anything, to happen in uncertainty and terror. And then the explosion erupts, all of the career's supplies going up in flames with the three closest careers with them. The licking flames roar in the sky, a huge shockwave rippling through the air as if you just set it off with dynamite, and then all of the explosions that have burst to life in a fragment of a second set off a mine right next to the boy from three, and before he can do anything, as he launches himself to the floor he's hitting the mine right on its sensitive spot and yet another explosion occurs. The sky is alight with flames of multiple colours and the madness of the situation seems to hit the one remaining career, the cat girl, and she laughs manically; a cold, high, piercing laugh. And as her laugh rings out in the sky alongside the five cannon shots from the tributes from two, the boy from three, and both from four since the girl's body is too flung high up in the air alongside the rippling heat and frenzied sparks dancing in their humidity, Dizzy's skulking black figure dashes through the heated air that burns so ripe and disappears like she had never been there where the flames burn so high, destruction lying in her wake.


	28. The True Meaning Of The Word 'Allies'

**A/N: **Yeah, so I said Dizzy's games would end this chapter, but no matter how much I tried, I still ended up with an ultra-long chapter, and only just got into the final two. I've already decided how the final two's going to end (well, Dizzy's going to win, obviously), but I mean how she does it and how she actually wins, which is quite freaky and scared me when I thought all of this up. Dizzy might freak you out in this chapter, but this is Dizzy for you. Soon Kara will go back to Indi and Zen, and the chapters for them will be more like this, but for Indi and Zen, and also I'll have some Kara winding up Debbie, hitting on both Ally and Zap at the same time to get them to fight each other, talking to Lumina and Hercules and generally doing what Kara does...

* * *

><p>Already in the final eight after the first day, the remaining tributes' family and friends come to talk about the tributes left, I see Satin's fit elder sister sobbing hopelessly at the cameras, asking anyone to help her, cat girl's ex-boyfriend playing around with the audience and saying that if she's going to die someone better get to it soon or he's have to jump in and do something, and Carlos' parents morbidly staring down the camera with utter hatred. But Dizzy? No, no-one comes for Dizzy. The Capitol actually find it a very awkward situation, so they manage to drag in the head peacekeeper for district nine who explains that Dizzy actually has no friends or family, and then murmurs a bit about the inconvenience it must be for everyone, not exactly psyching up the sponsors now, is it? Though I suppose Dizzy's natural talent is enough to swing her through. The days whittle away in front of me on the television, tributes skulking around the woods, but the death count still stays the same with no careers to hunt down tributes and the Gamemakers barely interfering. Dizzy just stays calmly up a tree, eyes shut, body relaxed. Half of the time she's a hunter gatherer, the rest she's just sleeping, or so it seems. For one moment when Dizzy is sleeping a rustling comes from the bushes below her and I can see the definite size and form of three tributes – both from six and Satin, the girl from two. The sight of them jolts me awake a bit, for I have started dozing off absent minded until now. I didn't really notice them that much; they made a pretty quick alliance near the beginning and have been sticking together ever since. But now they've spotted Dizzy.<p>

Satin unsheathes her sword, looking something like the self appointed leader and both the tributes from six don't complain, both flicking out knives. Then they slowly advance on the tree, creeping forward until Dizzy is right above them. An unsteady pause hangs in the air as the two tributes from six glance at Satin to be told what to do, but it seems like she doesn't have the answers that they want. It looks as they're just about to skulk away into the shadows again and strategise when a voice, Dizzy's voice, rings loud and clear from her supposed slumbering body.

"Interesting behavioural patterns, but you think you three can take me down?"

Then Dizzy leaps out of the tree with untold power, speed and agility, landing on her two feet, staring with her cold, unblinking eyes that have now opened reluctantly at the backs of the three tributes. In one steady movement Dizzy flicks out her knife, her facial expression not changing one bit, just remaining on a blank uncaring mask. The three other tributes swivel around as fast as possible, backing up against the tree as if they were worried Dizzy would suddenly appear behind their backs, brandishing a knife prepared to meet them.

"We don't want to fight!" squeaks the girl from six hurriedly and the boy from her district nods hurriedly in agreement as Satin nods too, but slower, in consent.

"Of course you don't," Dizzy says simply and flicks her knife back into her belt as if it had never been there, "then I suppose you'd have to call this an alliance."

"Err... yes, yes!" squeals the girl from six again, the boy mimicking her movement and Satin yet again nodding her consent morbidly, controlling from the shadows.

Dizzy says no more and moves on, automatically taking command, skulking away and tossing her blanket to the others, body stance relaxed, looking unprepared. But knowing Dizzy that's definitely not what it is.

"So, you know what caused that huge explosion?" the boy from six finally breaks the silence from at least an hour or so of constant trekking.

"No," lies Dizzy simply, continuing as if the lying didn't matter at all, neither the fact that the boy was at least four years older than her and she was leading him like a lamb to slaughter, willingly.

"How many dead, fifteen wasn't it?"

"Sixteen, we got into the final eight within the first half hour or so of the games," Dizzy answers simply, not a single waver in her voice and the silence embraces them once more, their legs all tiring apart from Dizzy, cold and calculating as ever.

Suddenly, after about three hours, Dizzy's knife flicks back out again and she throws it expertly into the bushes to the left of her, a shrieking coming from there. The bushes themselves seem to move and squeal in pain, and a figure which appears to be the bush itself leaps up, a knife embedded in their arm.

"Please don't kill me, please don't kill me!" the definite squeal of a boy calls out to Dizzy.

"I never liked you Carlos," Dizzy simply hisses, and her district partner falls to his knees, covered in various colours and paints, distinguishably a person, but if you're not looking quite easily an odd shaped shrubbery.

But Dizzy makes no move on the offensive, simply leaning forward and tugging the knife out of Carlos' arm, making him flinch and howl in pain. Then the knife simply slides back up her sleeve and she continues forward, carefully moving through the bushes, seemingly without a care in the world. That's Dizzy for you.

Carlos, surprised, trots after her awkwardly, glancing around at moments. In about two minutes later, Dizzy sighs reluctantly and flicks out her knife again.

"You too, get out," she calls steadily, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Another plant person, this time more looking like mud than the forest itself, swoops out of the darkness around them, causing the tributes next to Dizzy to jolt in shock, whereas Dizzy herself just coldly blinks; looking as unimpressed as ever.

"There's only districts one male, six male, six female, eight female, nine male, nine female, ten female and eleven female left. You're male, and since we have both of the other surviving male tributes here it's safe to assume you're district one male," Dizzy tells the boy simply.

"Yeah, but what gave me away? Carlos promised not to tell and my camouflage was flawless." The boy asks with interest, not really bothered that he was being faced with the girl who got an eleven in her training score, brandishing a knife.

"It indeed seems flawless at first appearance, but that moss growing on your left torso is only grown in rainforest terrain, and since we haven't quite reached the climate yet it's safe to say that it's either a disguise or a Gamemaker trap, either way – not good for me."

"Err... okay," the boy shuffled uncomfortably and moved on after the group, but not after smearing some mud over his patch of moss on his left torso.

Night swiftly approached on the fourth day of the hunger games, and what had started out in the morning as a splattering of tributes has turned into two lone tributes and a bunch of six conglomerated together in a heap under the watchful eye of Dizzy, the eye that turned out to be not quite as watchful over them as it seemed originally.

The night hits the arena with the calling of creatures scurrying around on the barren forest floor and the frantic hooting of owls, desperately calling form one to another as you would when in desperation. As all seven tributes lie asleep, breathing deeply, the eighth is actually only pretending and lying down, eyes shut calmly, breathing carefully and waiting patiently for the time to strike. With the confirmation of her five companion's sleep Dizzy slowly creeps up to her feet, knife in hand, and leans over the first of the other five tributes, her district partner, Carlos. Without batting an eyelid her hand is clasped over his mouth and his neck is slit perfectly, only a thin red line across his windpipe distinguishing sleeping from the eternal form he has been sent on. Then Dizzy silently moves onto the next – Satin. Then the next, and the next, and the next. Until five bodies are slumped on the floor. But Dizzy did it in such quick succession that the cannon fire did not jolt the others out of their sleep, but the cold pressing steel sliding against their poor vulnerable neck.

A shudder forces its way down my spine, causing vibrations of cold, callous shivers. Those shivers are shivers of hatred and anger, shivers of fear. What is Dizzy, what is she? Four, now five days into the games and she's in the final three, having killed off almost anyone. How many people _has_ she killed off? I killed six, and I was a true monster. But Dizzy, she has killed off so many more already. There was that boy in the bloodbath that she tripped up, the one from eleven, then those four careers, both from two and the boy from four in the initial explosion, and the boy from three with the mines. That makes five already, but with these five also added to her list, Dizzy is looking less and less like a hero and more like a super villain, how does she do it? What exactly _is _she?

Dizzy, with a glance at the dead bodies, grabs the weapons from the three she initially allied with, making her have three knives tucked into her belt and a sword grasped firmly in her hand. Then, leaving all of her supplies on the ground, including everything she picked up at the bloodbath, she makes her way off into the darkness, to end these games once and for all.

With the games nearing their end at only day five, and very early in the morning in day five at that, the cameras hurriedly take manic shots of absolutely everything the remaining three do. Dizzy turning down her supplies doesn't seem like a bad thing, because suddenly she's got sponsors – but so has the cat girl from ten. The girl from eleven just seems to have been lucky by the looks of it – escaped the bloodbath with a backpack full of supplies and a cut on her right arm, though she's fortunate to be left handed; and soared away and hid in the trees, undetected.

Cat-girl makes a sudden appearance when the girl from eleven finally gets found. Ever since the bloodbath cat-girl has been wandering around aimlessly, sucking her sponsors dry. But she definitely gives them a sow worth their money where the girl from eleven's concerned. Cat-girl happens to wander into her actually, just across the forest. Though, thinking about it, the swarm of trackerjackers that chased her over there would have been nothing to do with it. _Of course_, the Gamemakers are still in this game, even if they haven't really shown their hand this year; they're still making things exciting for the masses.

The girl from eleven desperately launches herself t cat-girl, but she's ready for her. With a flick of her hand the darts embedded in her fingernails flick out towards the girl from eleven and cause her to crumple on the floor paralysed. But cat-girl's not letting her get away that easily. With absolute agony to the paralysed girl, she scrapes her right hand across the girl's check and explains very slowly how in her left hand she has darts that can make people paralysed and in her right hand she has poisonous spikes, which slowly drain into the girl's system. Why the cannon fire finally strikes I let out a sharp breath, finally. It's all over, I feel so sorry for that girl from eleven.

With a final slash across the dead girl's mutilated chest, cat-girl steps back with a grin away from the pale and lifeless corpse. That means only one thing, there's only two people left. Cat-girl and Dizzy, and I sure as life can't tell how Dizzy won. I just hope it's not too bad, because as far as I can tell, in real life Dizzy's actually worse than cat-girl, and what I see next confirms that.


	29. The Knife Is Not Important

**A/N:** This chapter actually freaked me out when I wrote it, and I've been plannign what happens here for quite some time. Just a few things to say to all of you in answer to some of your questions - Martha-Rose Fall was from district _six_, not nine, I do actually check each chapter after writing it, going over it again, but when that happens I sometimes add more sentences of description and feeling to it, so therefore you might find a typo or spelling mistake (most likely typo) where I have added more, but if I was to check again it would take an extra half an hour or so, which hinders my updating speed which is something I am very proud of. So yes, I _do _proof read it. Unfortunately my proof-reading is a bit of a fail and at times bundles of typos can slip through, so I'm currently going through Gnawing hunger and proff-reading the whole thing, as I will do to Shattered Hearts later. Dizzy got the black liquid, which was some type of fuel, from the heap of supplies, sorry if that wasn't that clear. well anyway, read, and review - I'm so happy with how many of you have turned up to read and review this, we barged past the "200" reviews barrier, in the last chapter. I just hope I can make this more successful with more reviews than "Kill Or Be Killed", which has about 365, so that's a target to set for, make this my most successful story ever! Come on everyone, try and contribute a review and help me out here, because everything you've said has been ultra-helpful so far!

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><p>Suddenly a high, piercing laugh erupts throughout the forest from the television causing me to leap out of my seat in shock. It's the same laugh cat-girl produced on the first day, but so much more louder and terrifying; in control and seizing of power. It's a laugh that you can't help but fear, as it shrieks from cat-girl's mouth simply as would word tumbling out of her mouth, I know for certain that that laugh is the laugh of a madwoman. Then the laugh, if you could call it that, is followed up by a shriek piercing the sky, but not any old shriek, that shriek is one of words, cold and callous, barely decipherable, but words none the less.<p>

"Come here now, let's end it sooner rather than later!" cat-girl shrieks into the forest and I can see Dizzy pause momentarily, thinking it over. They're only a mile or so away from each other; they could get together in about half an hour.

"If you come now I'll go easy on you, kill you simply," cat-girl hisses louder than possible, her voice piercing through the forest. Dizzy stands up, contemplating the words, then smiles slightly, a slight knowing smile which is merely a twitch of the mouth, but an action so emotionless and wicked that I find myself shivering uncontrollably and have to grab hold of a fluffy pink cushion to cover myself with, not that it helps much but really, thinking about it, it's the thought that really counts. That small twitch of a smile that sprouted out of Dizzy's mouth, almost in recognition, is definitely one smile that I'll never forget.

So Dizzy simply, barely a blink in her decision, heads off to the sound of cat-girl's voice, something I never would have done. Or would I? I would have wanted the hunger games over as soon as possible, wouldn't I? So maybe facing cat-girl like Dizzy does on the screen in front of me is exactly what I would have done, but the way Dizzy handles the situation is beyond belief and certainly not something I would have done, or could have done.

Cat-girl is calling manically, laughing wickedly too, into the darkness around her, standing in the middle of a small circular clearing in the forest, waiting. Then Dizzy's figure finally skulks out of the shadows, she didn't wait or anything; just went straight into the clearing without a moment's hesitation. A sly smile flickers onto cat-girl's face and she hurriedly twirls around, paralysing darts flying in the air towards Dizzy's neck. If those hit her she'll die without a doubt, and it won't be pretty. But Dizzy simply ducks the darts within a blink of her eye and continues walking emotionlessly towards cat-girl.

"Oh, it's you, I didn't know which one of you to expect, but I guess you were the highest option out of all of them," cat-girl sneers, "I just hope you're more fun than that last one I had to deal with, could barely put up a fight at all. D'you call that exciting? I do _not_."

Dizzy doesn't even bother replying until she is standing almost exactly one metre away from cat-girl, just staring at her with her cool and calculating yet almost unblinking eyes.

"Well then, how do you want to do this?" purrs cat-girl maliciously, clawing the air with her fingers in excitement. Dizzy just blinks, and then slowly, very slowly, begins to sink to the floor.

"Given in, have you?" chuckles cat-girl with a serious amount of glee as Dizzy sits down, cross-legged, breathing simply and staring into the space between the two of them, "well, I suppose it was to be expected. You could never actually match me, let alone defeat someone with my ultimate ability."

Dizzy then, without a reply, reaches into her belt and withdraws a sharp knife with an edge almost like a saw, rigid and deadly, placing it firmly on the moist forest ground in front of her, half way between herself and cat-girl.

"Laying down your weapons, are you? Well I'm afraid to break it to you, but you've got three more there, you might want to add them into the mix." Cat-girl taunts.

"This is all I'll need to defeat you," Dizzy says simply, her eyes fixed firmly onto the knife in front of her.

"Oh yes? And how do you plan on doing that?" cat-girl chuckles as though it is all one huge funny joke to her, which it probably was at the time. The only thing was that I know what's going to happen, and it's no joke to me.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important," Dizzy almost chants in a monotonous tone.

"Well I'm glad you've brought that up," cat-girl teases, but I can see she's looking slightly ruffled by Dizzy's reaction the whole situation, and as if that wasn't enough Dizzy closes her eyes.

"Well, I've always liked a game of blind man's bluff; but I warn you now, I'm liable to cheat!" hisses cat-girl with a sudden lurch towards Dizzy, but then she smiles slyly and steps back to her original position again, "Might as well milk the moment, eh?" she chuckles.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important," Dizzy continues, her voice steadily moving as it would to a beat.

"What are you playing at?" cat-girl asks, looking at Dizzy with a new found interest, contemplating if there could be a hidden message beneath her words.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important," replies Dizzy in the same steady tone.

"Then why the heck are you mentioning it?" cat-girl shrieks, perturbed.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important," Dizzy chants, eyes shut as if she was sleeping, looking almost as if she's possessed.

"I'm done toying with you!" yells cat-girl angrily and charges forward at Dizzy, or rather she starts charging forward, but doesn't get past the first step, "what, what's happening?" she asks, her voice suddenly becoming like a little girl as she seems glued to the spot, almost in fear. She tries to move forward again and I can see her body straining to move, but it doesn't work and she just stays glued to the spot, struggling until slowly, as Dizzy's chant echoes around the clearing, she starts to calm down and settles standing, her whole body relaxed and her eyes a cloudy milky colour.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important," Dizzy's voice recites, simply repeating the same phrase all over again.

But then, into the darkness of the early morning and the crisp bitter air with the moist dew drops forming on the wet ground like frosting on a cake, cat-girl takes an almost menacing step forward, a placid look on her face that I've never seen before. How did Dizzy win then, if cat-girl's advancing towards her? Cat-girl's doing exactly that, hands outstretched while Dizzy is simply sitting on the floor chanting the same weird phrase with her voice as it is, almost melodious.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important," the chant continues, burrowing its way into my skin and cat-girl steps forwards once more until she's looming right over the knife, fingers outstretched yet a calm look on her face like she was sleepwalking, like this was the most natural thing in the world to do at all.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important."

Cat-girl bends down slowly and grasps the knife firmly with true grit in both of her hands, jaw relaxed as is the rest of her body as she looks straight forward, her eyes having a glazed over look fixed onto them. The serrated edged knife held in her hand is pointed at Dizzy's non-moving body, calm and carefully breathing in and out, in and out and the knife seems to rock slightly with that movement, Dizzy's breathing, as if it was one and the same.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important."

And with those words that sprout from Dizzy's mouth, cat-girl raises the knife and plunges it down into flesh, warm sticky blood flowing from the fatal wound, and with the echoing sound of cannon fire a limp body collapses on the floor, dead. And so Dizzy, as the last one standing, or rather, sitting, is left, she has become the victor of the 68th hunger games, as the commentator proudly chirps. Dizzy simply stands up; eyes still closed, and sighs loudly almost in regret. As she takes to her feet her mouth says it for one final time, more of a whisper than anything else. And so there is the victor of the 68th hunger games, Drisabella Combe, the twelve year-old girl from district nine standing above the dead body of the cat-girl, who plunged a knife into herself after all she had done to fight for survival.

"Don't look at the knife; don't think about the knife, the knife is not important."


	30. President Snow's Message

Dizzy's games finished, and I couldn't bring myself to watch the interviews after the games itself. I simply pulled out the tape, shoved it back in its box and stored it away back in the cupboard I got it from as soon as possible. Yet I still find myself trying to stay away from Dizzy and feeling a shiver trickle down my spine every time I glance at her in the corridor.

I suddenly feel myself slamming into someone else, causing them to sprawl on the floor, dazed. I stutter out an apology as quickly as I can and look up to see the face of the person I just slammed into. To my utter surprise it's none other than Alder.

"Alder!" I exclaim, causing a passing Avox to look at the two of us in surprise. No wonder, we're not really meant to know each other, let alone speak to each other except for me giving him commands. What, with being a mix in the hierarchy and all. Alder gives me an apologetic look, and as I'm about to move on with a warm smile, he grasps my arm tightly and steers me to an empty spare room which looks like yet another room full of sofas, drinks and screens, except it looks slightly run-down and unused, not even an Avox is in sight.

"Ouch, that hurts!" I flinch, at his nails digging into my skin.

Alder quickly scribbles down on a notepad and shows me.

_Sorry._

"Doesn't matter. So, hey, you wanted me?" I ask to his worried face.

_I have a message for you._

Alder writes, and from the look on his normally placid face it doesn't sound particularly good that he has that certain message.

"Who from?" I ask cautiously.

_President Snow._

I gulp back my words as I feel my lungs suddenly tighten and I have to put out a hand to Alder's shoulder to steady myself from fainting or doing something stupid yet typically me, though Alder doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he just smiles sweetly and reassuringly at me, as if this was all such a natural thing to do, give his friends daunting messages from President Snow that could very well ruin their lives.

"What is it?" I manage to stutter. He might as well get it out of the way and break the bad news, leaning forward so close to Alder that I can feel his breath caressing my cheek, waiting for the words to come out of the pen and onto the paper he's writing.

_He wants you to-_

"Kara!" the voice yanks me out of my dreamy state and I whip my head around to see a distraught Debbie.

"What are you doing in here, it's been shut down. And with an Avox too, and how close were your faces? Oh my goodness, what would have happened if I didn't find you in here? What if it was the press? Can you imagine how this looks, alone in an empty room with an, with an Avox!" Debbie shudders, grabbing my shoulder tightly and steering me away from Alder. I desperately squint to see what Alder's written but he stays rooted to the spot, note pad gripped firmly in submission.

"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for this all," Debbie bristles, her face flushing.

"Alder and I were only-"

"You know his name?" shrieks Debbie, "it's worse than I first thought!"

"Listen Debbie, calm down and stop hyperventilating. You're growing to assumptions. Just think about how you must be like to everyone else if they knew you were like this."

"Me calm down? _Me think?_ Kara, you just have no idea! No idea about what I go through for you, what I do daily; all the sacrifices I make for you! And you think you can just act like, act like... like that? And now you're telling _me_ to calm down? What a preposterous notion! That's it, that's _it_; I'm going to lock you in your room and you're going to stay there until you've come to your senses!" Debbie screams, causing everyone in the corridor to turn their heads in surprise at Debbie's flustered face. Before I can object Debbie has shoved me into my room and as I sprawl on the floor, dazed, I hear the confident click in the door of it locking.

"You have to understand Kara; it's for your own good," Debbie pleas and then after the steady stamp of footsteps away I feel the cold plunge of being alone take me over again so I grasp a hairbrush and seat myself on my bed calmly, brushing my hair and allowing the strokes to calm me down and lull me into a monotonous sense of calm.

"Hey Kara, you didn't answer when I knocked and the door was locked so I picked it," Zap enters the room with a boyish grin, brandishing a gun with childish delight in the lethal weapon itself.

I don't know how long has passed except that there's too much hair in the hairbrush and too little on my head at the looks of it. Maybe I should have chosen a little less vigorous approach to brushing my hair.

"You ever heard of something called privacy?" I ask Zap with a half-hearted grin in his direction, deciding to not mention the previous encounter with Alder and Debbie. Luckily Zap doesn't notice me being upset and continues happily, so not asking any tricky questions. That's one of the good things with Zap – he doesn't go around prying into people all of the time, he seems unable to anyway.

"Hey, this gun has 'G' inscribed on it, I wonder what that stands for," ponders Zap, ignoring my last comment, "Gregory, George, Garry, Gretel, golf, gorilla, gum, gape, gunk, God, good, gold, Gerald, Geraldine, gas, game, gone, going, go, gothic, gamble..."

"Gun," I add and Zap cracks a genuine smile of realisation.

"Oh yeah, gun! That would make sense, wouldn't it?"

I can't help but roll my eyes in awe of his stupidity at points. I know he's probably only doing it to cheer me up; but it's working. "So..." I start, unable to think of anything to say.

"I've got a gun!" Zap cheers, waving it in the air. It's not a proper gun, more like a pistol than an actual army gun they'd take into battle, but thinking about it it's the first time I've actually seen a proper gun. I mean, the peacekeepers keep them back at district eight, but I've never actually seen one in use, and then they're like chunks of scrap metal, this has a varnished wooden handle and is in top condition.

"I'm not going to even ask how you got that," I sigh and then look at Zap's grinning face, trying to think of something to say, "so, found yourself a girlfriend yet?"

"Is that a personal or professional question?" Zap teases, his ongoing grin never ceasing to amaze me.

"Make it both," I sigh and Zap lets a little smile jump to his lips.

"Very well then, not yet; but you never know, the only problem is there's this annoying girl," Zap sighs in anguish.

"You're not talking about me, I hope?" I say, my time to tease.

"No, no, it's just she keeps on following me everywhere ever since she somehow found out I don't have a girlfriend, she's the new member on my prep team, Alas, and well, I somehow need to convince her that I _do_ have a girlfriend to stop her hitting on me so obviously, it's just kind of creepy the way she stalks me everywhere."

"Oh, young love," I sigh.

"Oi! I'm older than you!" Zap exclaims causing me to chuckle slightly.

"Oh no," I sigh when I see the unmistakable glint in Zap's eyes, "you're not thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking, are you?"

"Try me."

"Girlfriend... substitute... me... you... pretend...together..." I stutter out a few key words.

"Oh yeah!" Zap grins excitedly, a look on his face I definitely don't like.

"Ok then, Zap-boy. Have it your way. But you owe me one."

"_Zap-boy_? Is that the best nickname for me you can come up with? Alas calls me 'static'."

"Well I'm not Alas am I?" I exclaim, hitting Zap playfully on the arm.

"In fact, I know how you can repay me," I say with a mischievous grin.

"How?" Zap asks keenly, his face lit up like a child's at the reaping day when they get a present before they understand the real pain and suffering behind it all.

"That gun of yours..."

"Yes?"

"Flush it down the toilet, will you?"


	31. Are You Sure This Is A Good Idea?

**A/N: I had such fun writing the last chapter I went and wrote this one right away even though I should have been slleping, but decided to leave a gap before updating it since I probably won't be updating for a few days now. Can I just say that sometimes all I need is a review like some that I've had to totally perk up my spirits. Some things you've said about me are phenomenal, especially since I'm not particularly good or anything, and it's just like you giving me your vote of confidence; it really gives me a boost of happiness, so I'd just like to say thank you to all of you lot that have reviewed with care, love and affection, and I hope you keep doing so. Also, inspired by the random tat on my profile, wrote a short one-shot about Juniper and Zen having an argument called "My Mentor's Better Than Yours" so if you have the time I'd love it if you could head over there, read it and possibly review. Thanks!**

**~Snev**

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><p>"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I squeak out of the corner of my mouth towards a seriously over-excited Zap. He's really taking this the wrong way. Just because I agreed to be his girlfriend for the day, or rather, hour doesn't mean he gets to choose what I wear; except it does seem to be that way.<p>

After what seemed like, and probably was, hours of Zap flickering through outfits and forcing me to try them on he finally decided that I, as his _girlfriend_, should look like him. And seriously, I do. Baggy electric blue tracksuit bottoms that keep on sliding down my hip with a stray piece of elastic to hold them up, a plain white backdrop with a mesh of colours woven on top of it for my shirt alongside hideously scruffy trainers. Even my _hair_ has random spikes in it and is a shockingly different shade of blonde all because of him, all because of his dratted idea. And the gun didn't even fit down the toilet properly, it ended up getting jammed half way through and we had to call for an Avox to fix it which happened to mean turning off all of the water in the building for an hour, which means not everyone's a happy bunny when they can't have a shower, get a drink or even flush their toilet. Unfortunately it wasn't Alder that turned up; she seems to have made sure of that. And by 'she' you know who I mean – Debbie. It's horrendous; I really need to find out what President Snow wants, and now. Yet Debbie's just standing in the way, and when I said that he had an urgent message for me from President Snow she wouldn't believe me. _Debbie wouldn't believe me_. Gees, is it really that impossible? He invaded my house before didn't he, or was that just some horrendous nightmare?

"Static!" a shriek erupts into the air like a tortured mockingjay and I have to struggle so not to clamp my hand against my ears in pain.

Alas, who I'm assuming is Zap's member of the prep team, hurtles through the air as if she was competing in the hunger games, bolting to Zap, or rather, 'Static', as if her life depended on it.

"Oh Static, I've missed you. I was just on my way to look for you, one moment you were here and the next you were gone. I was getting worried, and- oh." It appears Alas has seen me. She takes in my appearance slowly from my legs up, until she meets on my face.

"You're, you're-" she gulps, unable to find words.

"Kara Jaymond, eh 'Static'?" I tease, nudging Zap slightly. In return he tries to let out a warm smile but it turns more into a grimace, trying desperately to remain civil towards Alas at all times, and me probably. I can't see his problem. This was his idea after all.

"I told you not to call me that," Zap groans through gritted teeth. Unfortunately Alas seemed to have picked up on what he said.

"Why not? Is it just _our_ special nick-name, eh _Static_? She can't invade on that; she doesn't own you, does she?"

"Well actually, yes, she does," grins Zap cheekily, a smile plastered across his face, "she does own me."

The look on Alas' face is one of pure pain that I can say it pains me ever to think of it. It seems to drop a few centimetres and the look of oblivious joy at seeing Zap has disappeared and she turns slowly towards me, taking in both Zap and my arms linking around the other's back, her voice quiet and stuttering as she takes in this information.

"H-how... how can she, she o-own you, St-static?" Alas gulps.

"Don't call me that, it's just Zap to you," Zap groans again, before turning to me and beaming with a positively evil smile which means he has some cunning and malicious plan in mind involving me which I will definitely not like, "you see, she's my _girlfriend_."

If it was even possible, Alas' face dropped another few centimetres, jaw gaping open, "Girl-girlfriend, Zap; I thought you didn't have a girlfriend, isn't that right?"

"What? Oh, but Kara and I have only recently got together-together. I mean, we've been a 'couple' for a long time now, ever since I started styling for her last year, but we've decided it's time to go public, now that I'm a stylist and all, raise in rank and what-not," Zap grins, glee evident in his eyes. I must admit, I do feel slightly guilty at the look on Alas' face, but that's what you get if you pester Zap, I suppose. At least she didn't choose to pester Finnick; he wouldn't have needed me to step in if that was the case, he would have had plenty of willing volunteers. Zap isn't quite that unobtainable yet.

"You..." croaks Alas and I can sense tears brewing in her eyes.

"Yes?" I ask sweetly, trying to act just like Clara would in this situation, if it were real, or Clara were real in fact.

"You're really going out with Zap?" she gapes, unable to contain tears as a lone one trickles down her cheek.

Suddenly I feel an urgent urge to scream out 'no! Ha, ha! April fool's, even though it's not in April! Of course I'm not going out with Zap, we're only friends!', and I can feel Alas' hope for me to do that too, but I remember the hint of desperation in Zap's voice when he asked me to do this. And besides, I'd have to go fishing in the sewers for Zap's gun, which isn't exactly my cup of tea.

"Oh yeah!" Zap chirps happily, answering it for me, then beams his most toothiest grin at Alas, despite her actually having shed a tear, and turns to me, "that's right, isn't it, my little _cherub_?"

"Oh yeah, _squidgy_," I tease, winking at Zap slightly alongside our stupid nick-names.

"Well then, _angel_; you better give me a kiss..."

"What?" I say, my voice shocked as I break out of my Clara personality, "I mean, err... _what_ did you say, I didn't quite catch that."

"I said you better give me a kiss," repeats Zap with a smug grin, a look of something I can't quite touch glazed over his eyes. I lean forward as if to whisper something into his ear as I did with Dral when we were in the hunger games, and Zap has the good enough sense to laugh as I'm speaking both to cover up any chance of her overhearing and make it sound as if I'm whispering something personal.

"No chance, buster," I hiss into his ear, "I've got to give it to you - good try though."

"I thought as much!" exclaims Zap as our heads reach back to normal level and we both glance at Alas as she stand uncomfortably, rooted to the spot, a look of horror fixed on her face.

"Well, I better go then..." Alas whispers, and then bolts out of the room as fast as her legs could possibly carry her, dashing out. Just in case Zap and I stay next to each other, arms wrapped around the other waiting for the sound of footsteps to vanish. Just as I'm about to let go of Zap, knowing he won't until I do, Alder enters the room. With one glance at me and Zap, identical clothes, arms wrapped around the other's backs, a puzzled look on his face is replaced with an embarrassed one and he starts to back out of the room.

"No, Alder!" I call and he slowly moves forward.

"You know this dude?" asks Zap with interest and I just roll my eyes at him in reply.

"Don't worry; Zap and I aren't... _together_ or anything. We're just friends. Just Zap somehow roped me into pretending to be his girlfriend so we could convince this girl called Alas who's been stalking him for ages now that she should stop and, well, yeah... and that is why I'm dressed like him, doesn't ask me. It was his idea, though I've already flushed his gun down the toilet, blocking all of the water flow for an hour, so that's his side of the bargain complete, you see? So I couldn't exactly turn back now, so, err, well... yeah..."

Alder's face, that was one of embarrassment, is now one of bemusement, a certain memorable twinkle in his eye and a certain sort of smirk in his mouth.

"You have a message for me?" I ask and Alder's face drops as cold as stone. He grabs his notebook and, carefully shielding the page from Zap, shows me the message on it, what President Snow wants me to do. My fate, my destiny, my life; all on that strip of paper; and the paper reads:

_Come and see me._


	32. The Whisper of a Senseless Murderer

**A/N: Here's yet another chapter of Shattered Hearts. I won't make this long because I know how annoying this can be, with me rattling on before you get to read the immensly valuable chapter, but I'd just like to say a couple of things. Number one - if you _do_ have any criticism for me, and I'm fine with that by the way, can you please try and present it in a constructive manner both to insure I can act on it and target it out easier, and to make sure that your message isn't interpreted the wrong way. Number two - thank you to all of you who reviewed and have been reviewing (I especially enjoyed reading the Kara/Zen names - Karen was funny 'cos it sounds so stupid) and just to let you know that a little appreciation _does_ go a long way, and a lot of appreciation goes a heck of a lot further! ;P So thank you all again for all of your support, and I hope you continue to read and review regularly!**

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><p>Hercules has taken over the tributes' screen from me and Lumina is lying in bed, groaning with stomach ache and retching up in the toilet every few hours, an Avox permanently posted by her side – that's what happens when you take a sudden like to the boiled turkey with mint sauce and gravy. This day has been so uneventful for Indi and Zen though, I wouldn't be surprised if the tributes started to sprout wings soon, as a stupid Capitol ploy. Well, it's not like it hasn't happened before. Then again, it may not be very entertaining enough for the Capitol, what with some of them actually looking like they have wings, just like the bulky bodyguard currently glaring me down from behind tinted shades, muscles flexing as if to say 'one wrong move and you're dead'. But I'm Kara Jaymond can't be intimidated easily, just you wait and see.<p>

"Come in," the soft yet menacing whisper of a voice flickers past my ears, barely audible but still distinguishable. That is the voice of none other than President Snow, President of Panem and all-around bad guy, well, that's what just about everyone except the citizens of the Capitol think of him anyway, the man who had enforced the hunger games with questionably more grit and determination than his predecessor. The man who has become known as in district eight simply as 'the senseless murderer'. The man that you can't place an age on with his paper white hair and plastic looks, yet somehow gives off an air of power and height. That I can understand, he is President after all. If only that was not the case, then Panem might not be in this mess that it currently is.

I slowly step forward, running my hands across the engraved oak door; the door with pictures of the blood-stained rebellion, with Snow's predecessor, the President, standing over and surveying the battle just like a god as millions of rebels are slain underneath him in graphic detail for a wood carving; the door that I have been examining for the past ten minutes. Does he usually keep his visitors waiting this long?

I am thinking about to voicing my opinion but at the morbid and monotonous, maybe even slightly ghoulish look on his plasticised face and the power alongside the mingled scent of blood and roses emanating from him I decide that maybe I should keep my tongue held in risk of losing it.

"Kara Jaymond," Snow says, stretching my name across his tongue as if trying it out to fit.

"President Snow," I politely nod in my posh Capitol accent, then decide to throw in a curtsey just in case. I bow down awkwardly, only to find that I don't actually have a skirt on, so am clutching at thin air. I wobble slightly, my breath still stuck in my sandpapered throat and I only just manage to regain my balance at the end, trying to hide a timid look in my eyes and replace it with a perfectly calm one, one that Clara would wear.

"There's no need for that charade here _Miss_ Jaymond," Snow says, somehow the word 'Miss' being emphasised like poison.

"Charade?" I ask, hurriedly adding a 'sir' onto the end. I catch myself biting my lip again, a habit I have tried to give up that I established in my hunger games. With a slight sigh that has been concealed well within my lungs for the past ten minutes waiting to come in here I look back up to see his placid un-aging face, though clearly one with a grand number as the age in front of it, still ticking forward like the grandfather clock, boldly knocking behind Snow's smooth and emotionless face.

"Yes, _Miss _Jaymond, charade. I am perfectly well informed that that is not, in fact, your true accent; that is not, in fact, even your true personality. You are rather, well, how to put it? Shall we say - mendacious at points, yes, mendacious, aren't you?"

"Mendacious?" I parrot, unable to get at what he's thinking, my thoughts fogged up and severely unclear.

"Yes, mendacious. It means that you're actually rather prone to lying, in fact I might as go as far as saying that you're living a lie, _Miss_ Jaymond." The way he says 'Miss' seems to strike me again as I pinpoint the hiss in his voice when he pronounces that word, and not just the Capitol accent elongating every single 's' used, no this hiss is something more, something deadlier, something _personal_.

"I- I know what it means, but..." I stutter in my normal slightly posh accent, unable to continue easily.

"Ah yes, you are probably wondering why I sent a lowly Avox after you when I could have had anyone in the building deliver that little memo," Snow softly almost whispers at me so I have to strain my ears to listen to what he said to make clear what he just said was what I heard. I even have to double check, re-running over what he exhaled in my head. Err... no, I was more thinking along the lines of 'what possible reason can this psycho killer in front of me have for summoning me to his office?', but I nod along anyway, trying to restrain myself from screaming or doing something drastic like I no doubt would do if I was to let the rampaging Kara locked up inside me free to wreak havoc.

"Well, the reason is simple: _I know about you two_."

"Oh no," I sigh heavily and awkwardly, almost in relief, the sigh relieving me of all tension I've built up until just now, "you didn't hear Debbie did you; and her stupid theories about me and Alder? We're just friends that's all, just _friends_. A romantic attachment would be impossible, what with the status change, he's a criminal isn't he? Then there's the Capitol and the standards you set and the way everyone judges you, then the way he, well, can't talk because of, err... you've got it all wrong President Snow, I tell you, all wrong!"

"No, in fact, if you recall, I dispatched the message to you before that unfortunate incident with yourself and the aforementioned Avox, so in fact I am '_all right_', as you would so aptly put it. I merely dispatched the message via Avox just to prove a point."

"A point?" I shudder, unable to stop myself. I am inexplicably dizzy so have to clench my fists; and suddenly feel like retching, the scent of blood and roses seems to have suddenly multiplied and flooded up my nose, rotating my senses and making my stomach burn bitterly with the acid inside.

"Yes, _Miss_ Jaymond, a point. That _I know everything_."

"Everything?" I repeat yet again, my voice and heart hollow.

"Yes dear, everything," Snow replies, his use of the word 'dear' rippling across my spine, almost sending a sudden jolt of shock down my backbone.

"Is- is that it?" I ask questionably, as if it could be too good to be true, that it would be all over soon.

"Yes, that is it," Snow says carefully, drawing out the words longer than they are due. Then, without another glance at me, he picks up a purplish file and starts scribbling down into it almost with need of great urgency. I manage to take a glimpse of the file as I'm ushered out of the room. It's labelled simply '_Miss Kara Jaymond_'. Before I can digest any of this information, like the fact that I don't have some terrible life-threatening choice ahead of me and that I might not die after all, not to mention that he has a file about me, before I can process any of it and sort it out in my brain the door is being hurriedly slammed shut by the burly bodyguard and I'm being briskly escorted out of the building without a second thought. That's it then, is that it? It's all over, I'm safe...

Or am I?


	33. Knock Knock

**A/N: **I told you the games would feature a lot more soon one I got past a little stage of Kara, and that is so. now we're going onto a chunk of the games. This chapter is quite a cute quirky one, and you'll find that a couple of important things have been shoved in here that need to be said, even if some of you may regard it as a 'filler' chapter. So all of you know, since RiversOfVenice quite fanfiction, I have decided to take our co-authored story "Set On Fire", onto my account and post each chapter we did and at least add a couple more. Even though I've had an alert and two favourites, no-one has actually bothered to review it yet, so if you would that would be great. Anyway, thank you and please review.

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><p>The rest of my day whizzes past me in a blur, and all I can think of is Snow's words, ricocheting around my head, knocking back and forth like at a tennis match.<p>

_I know everything. I know everything. I know everything. I know everything._

Eventually I manage to snap myself out of it, shaking my head vigorously and turning to the many screens dangling off the walls in the Cets control room. Hercules is sitting next to me, hunched over a bowl of what looks suspiciously like porridge, shovelling it into his mouth as fast as he can.

"Err... Hercules, are you OK?" I ask, slightly worried by his hurried behaviour.

"Yes, yes, I'm just... just... worried, that's all," he sighs in between mouthfuls of the oat filled substance.

"Worried about what?" I say.

"It's Lumina," Hercules sighs reluctantly, "she's good some sort of food poisoning, she's been throwing up constantly since last night. I don't know what I should do, should I call a doctor to see her or something?"

"Sure, why not?" I say, swivelling around on my chair.

"Ok then, I'll go do it now. You'll be OK on your own, right Kara?" Hercules asks me, causing an automatic smile to fly to my lips.

"They don't call me a victor for nothing."

"_They _don't call you a lazy lout either, which is a shame," sighs Hercules, and before I can attack him with one of my awesome comebacks he's staggered out of the room, probably to go and find a Capitol doctor who _doesn't _specialise in plastic surgery as most of them do around here.

I put down my book with a sigh. I wouldn't call it a book exactly, more like a catalogue. It's full of pictures of famous hunger games tributes designs, and I've been trying to get myself accustomed to them. As far as I can see, what I had in district eight is about as good as it gets. Usually it's some draped cloth or fabric, maybe some huge stitches or something equally ridiculous. It's something Ally said to me an hour or so ago when I was chatting to him; that even I could come a hunger games designer. And it kind of stuck, to be honest, so I thought I'd stick around and draw a couple of things, sketch the odd thing out and maybe read this for inspiration, but so far I've just drawn up a blank.

Sighing in frustration, I cast the book to the side and stare at the screen, still no deaths and still no action. How long has it been; two days, three? Well, I suppose an hour ago they had Angel almost stumble into another hidden well, Zen there to catch her, their water source found at last; but still, that's about as good as it gets. The Gamemakers themselves haven't changed anything. It either means they lack imagination or... they're planning something; something huge.

The careers are featuring, like usual, and I'm thinking about going back to the catalogue when I remember the tribute painted as a sowing needle and decide to go back to keeping an eye on my tributes. Zen and Angel have turned in for the night early, and Indi is still practising with her blowpipe absent minded-ly, always rationing her dwindling source of food. So the careers it is, you never know, they might say something interesting. It's the boy from one and the girl from two at first watch while the rest of them sleep back at camp apart from the boy from four, girl from one and boy from two who are out hunting, Juniper therefore actually being the only one sleeping. I just _wonder_ how she swung it her way.

"Hey Sweet," Toto says, shuffling towards her slightly on the log the two of them are sharing, having heaved it from the Cornucopia earlier.

"What is it?" she growls in evident distaste.

"You look positively radiant in the night's glow," he flirts, causing a scowl to appear on Sweet's face.

"And you look positively ugly; now get back to the watch."

Toto doesn't look like the type to be defeated though, and after the silence of the night, small shuffles and sounds of the different night animals in the arena, he cracks open the silence once again, "hey Sweet, you want to hear a joke I made up?"

He seems to take Sweet's morbid silence as a yes, "knock knock," he says, and when Sweet doesn't reply his face falls a bit, "you're meant to say 'who's there' now."

"Who's there?" sighs Sweet reluctantly, gritting her teeth in angst.

"Who," Toto says.

"Who who?" Sweet asks unenthusiastically.

"Oh no! Must be an echo!" Toto grins, waiting for some sort of laugh to come out of Sweet's mouth, but all he gets is an unimpressed grimace. "Ok, ok, that wasn't very good, but the next one will be _brilliant_, just you wait and see!"

"Toto-" she starts but he cuts over her.

"Knock knock."

"Listen-"

"KNOCK KNOCK!"

"Who's there?" she sighs heavily.

"You..."

"You who?"

"Hello!"

Sweets' silence is embarrassing, "please tell me you didn't make them up yourself," she murmurs.

"Now you mention it-" Toto grins.

"Shut up or I'll kill you," sighs Sweet, leaning to her left.

"You really shouldn't be sleeping on watch duty," Toto points out awkwardly, poking her with his forefinger.

"Well I've got _you_ to watch, don't I?" Sweet grunts, turning over slightly.

"Are you uncomfortable like that?" asks Toto , prodding her again.

"About as comfortable as you can be in the _hunger games_," she groans.

"And are you cold?"

"About as cold as you can be in the _hunger games_," she repeats as you would do to a five year old.

"Why don't you just snuggle up to me then?" Toto asks, causing Sweet to jerk up.

"What is your _problem_?" she hisses angrily, reminding me slightly of President Snow's tone when he said '_Miss_ Kara Jaymond'.

"I – I..." Toto stutters.

"Don't you get it? I couldn't care less about you! You're arrogant, self-obsessed and blatantly stupid if you think you could even get near me anywhere, let alone the hunger games! I mean, do you purposefully annoy me, or is it not your intention when you set out to do so?"

"Sweet, I..."

"Listen pal, don't use that tone with me!" she growls, whipping out her sword and pointing it at his chest, the blade edge touching it, "I could kill you now if I wanted to, just at the moment I don't think it's to my tactical advantage, there being thirteen tributes left and it only being day four." It is day four? The games have only being going for four days? I thought it was like a week or something already, but four days sounds positively miserly now. I count the days off on my fingers, including the two nights I spent up, one checking the screen when the fight broke out and one flicking through Dizzy's games, which must have taken me through the night, yes, it did. With a sigh I turn back to the screen and notice that Toto is now wincing as the sword is digging in closer through his chest, a livid look on Sweet's face. Whatever he said, it certainly didn't calm her down, and in fact it looks like it fired her up even more. I get that horrible gut feeling that something nasty's going to happen when Juniper pokes her head out of her tent and sees the scene in front of her.

"What is going on?" she gasps as she sees Toto's clammy body with Sweet's sword almost jammed into his ribs and going there any second.

"This freak was insulting me, flirting with me," growls Sweet bitterly.

"There's no need to kill for love or rather, lack of, and Toto – hold your stupid charade, it isn't fooling anyone." Juniper sighs, as if she was facing two squabbling children, not to beefy teenagers who both outranked and were older than her.

"What do you mean charade?" Toto says as soon as Sweet has let her go.

"I mean exactly what I say. There is no love in the hunger games, not real love anyway, just a flimsy façade."

And with a final huff Juniper storms back into her tent, leaving Toto to go back to his senseless flirting and Sweet trying to contain herself. Well, at least I know a bit more about them, or rather, the stage they're putting up. But did I just see a glimpse of the real them there, or was it just another petty layer of lies? There's only one way to find out – wait and see.


	34. Try Me

**A/N:** Some action finally happens in the end of this chapter, and will lead onto the next, and Kara meets back with Dizzy; so all's well. Just so you know - there IS a prologue to Gnawing Hunger, which is about Marie, Kara's mother, called "Falling For Him"; and I have taken on an ex-co-authored story called "Set On Fire" (Catching Fire, Set On Fire, get it? I came up with that awesome name!) about Katniss and Peeta's child as if Mockingjay and part 2 and 3 of Catching Fire hadn't happened.

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><p>The night drifts past without a hitch. I only register the time moving by the constant beeping from a digital clock fixed in the corner of one of the screens, beeping away. Eventually the sound just melts into the background and, stifling a yawn as I stretch out my arms and my muscles pull into place, I decide that maybe I should go and socialise a bit. With a quick glance towards Zen and Indi - only to confirm that both of them are trying to find a food source their own way, Zen setting snares with bits of twine he made, not wanting to waste the rope, and Indi digging for roots desperately as the iodine starts to work on the water – I tumble out of the room and enter the circular and even domed room that is the centre of Cets.<p>

I see a hand waving me over, and as I approach I notice it's none other than Evangeline, or Evan, the female mentor from district one. What's she doing with me anyway; I thought I'd have been off her radar, what with me being from a non-career district and all, they tend to hang in gaggles. But then again, I was technically a career in my games, so all's well.

"What's up, well aside from the ceiling?" I brightly ask Evan as I approach her and launch myself at the deep blue sofa that's she's sitting on, letting the folds of cushions cocoon me.

"Listen Kara, whatever you did to Dizzy, I'd leave it right now," she hisses immediately, and I give her a puzzled look. What? What I did to Dizzy?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ever since you talked to her she's been moping around looking depressed; and when Dizzy's depressed it's dangerous. So whatever you did, I'd just go and amend it, alright?"

"Err... okay, but-"

Evan has already sprung to her feet and left me alone. Wait a second, what does she mean by _when Dizzy's depressed it's dangerous_? Is she really that wild a card? Well then, I don't want to get on either Evan or Dizzy's bad side, so go and approach her hurriedly, trying to strike up a conversation as quick as possible.

"Hey Dizzy!" I call energetically, sprinting over to her.

"Kara," she nods curtly.

"Err... well, are you okay and everything, all's faring well with you?" I ask brightly.

"You saw my games," she says bluntly, causing me to jolt, "so now you won't want to be my friend anymore."

"What? Why would you think like that?" I ask, shocked.

"That's how it always goes," Dizzy sighs, "they only come if they don't remember me, and once they do they always get scared away – always."

"No, no, I'm not like them!" I gasp, surprised at the revelation.

"What? Really?" Dizzy's face brightens up slightly.

"Of course, you're the only one here vaguely around my age, I don't want to just throw our friendship away. I did some pretty dirty things in my games too, you know."

"You think what I did was dirty?" Dizzy asks.

"No, no, not dirty as such..."

"I think they were dirty. Slitting my allies' throats in the night, convincing Camellia to kill herself..."

At first I'm confused about who Camellia is, when I realise it must be cat-girl. Then I'm even more confused, and shocked that Dizzy knows her name. Then again, I specially went out of the way to learn all of the people I killed names. It seemed like the best course of action, really. So yes, it fits that she knows her name. Camellia... isn't that some sort of bush? It has flowers a bit like a rose, yes?

"How... how did you do that?" I manage to spit out.

"Well, it's a bit like hypnotising really; just different. You hack into the opponent's mind, possess them almost. Your will becomes theirs. Unless you're very skilled you end up being the one that kills yourself; it's highly risky. That's why you have to close your eyes. You shut down all of your other senses and cut yourself out, just leaving the chant to take your body over, and then somehow you, by telling yourself to kill yourself, therefore tell the opposition to ignore something. For example – pink elephant; don't think of a pink elephant. What are you thinking about?"

"A pink elephant," I sigh reluctantly.

"Precisely, you plant the idea into their head using the chant and then, well, transfer your will into theirs. As I said before, it's highly risky, so you should never use it unless it's a life or death situation. You may have noticed, but I played around with the notes of the chant at the beginning until they fitted to Camellia herself. You see, each person has a different chant, and it will only work on certain people. Camellia happened to be one of them. It seemed to be the best of all my options at the time. If I was to fight her in hand-to-hand combat I would have surely died, even in long range attacks the outcome would have been fatal. That just left one option open for me really, _that_ option."

"But, but how did you learn to do it?"

"My father," Dizzy explains, "he was a travelling performer for the Capitol. Used to do that little trick, use it in his show, the grand finale. Of course, he wouldn't actually kill the person, he'd break the charm just in time. Unfortunately one time he was too late and then when the Capitol heard he had just murdered one of their citizens, well..."

"Oh," is all I can manage.

"I never saw him again, and then my mother got fired from her job for no apparent reason, and then I got reaped..." Dizzy pulls off, "you better check on your tributes."

"Oh, yes, thanks for reminding me," I gabble and then dash off to check the screens.

What meets my eyes shocks me. The three careers; Current, Boudicca and Wolfgang, are advancing on two little bleeping dots in the arena, and those two bleeping dots are none other than Indi and Zen.

"Damn," I mutter in angst, and then, before I know it, Current has darted into the clearing where they're just starting to set up a fire.

"Ha, ha! You're going to die!" shrieks Current joyfully, and with a sigh Boudicca pulls up behind him, her untamed red hair fizzing in the rising sunlight.

"What did we say about the silent tactic?" she snarls, then Wolfgang suddenly appearing behind her, one second in the bushes, the next out in the open without a single rustle of leaves or crunch of twigs; all in the blink of an eye.

"I say we attack!" Current excitedly chirps, Angel and Zen having jolted up and Zen rummaging frantically in his backpack, "we could get some fun out of this."

"We don't have a choice now you blew our cover, you moron," Boudicca hisses angrily, glancing at Wolfgang for confirmation though. He pauses slightly, seeing Zen tug out a two metre rope from the backpack and usher Angel behind him, then nods solemnly, hanging back himself. They advance slowly and menacingly, well, Current tries to do so anyhow, but fails quite miserably on that event.

"Angel, get behind me. When they all are at me I'll hold them, you run and get out of here, take the backpack," Zen says, shrugging the pack off his shoulder and giving it to a startled Angel.

"Zen, you can't fight them all on your own, you'll be killed!" Angel squeaks from behind him.

"Oh yeah!" Zen says, a surprising grin spreading across his face, "try me."


	35. You're The One That's Going To Die

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long to write this chapter, I wrote another chapter for Falling For Him (Gnawing Hunger's prequel - read it if you haven't, very funny) and just wrote the epilogue for Gnawing Hunger, which I got very excited about, when writing. Now, anyway, I left the last chapter on a cliffhanger, and you're going to kill be because I leftthis one on one too! Eek! Well, anyway, I hope you enjoy and review, because the more you review the more motivated I find myself, it's a subconcious thing...

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><p>"Someone get Hercules!" I shriek out of the room and into the centre of Cets, calling for any mentor, anyone at all, "and get Lumina while you're at it, please?"<p>

Surprisingly the face that appears is owned by Johanna Mason, of all people, and even though she looks reluctant, she pokes her head around the door, nods briskly without a single word and sets off at a jog, presumably to find Hercules. I think she probably knows what I'm going through, after all, her tribute got butchered a while back; and even though Zen technically isn't my tribute, he's Hercules', I think she knows that I'm right to feel at least some concern. Though even I question the amount I'm feeling – not both of them can get out of the arena alive, and I don't think any of them probably will, I shouldn't be this attached to them, so why am I?

My head spins back to the screen, surveying the scene again. Zen's putting himself between the three patrolling careers – Current, Boudicca, and Wolfgang – and his tiny twelve year-old ally, Angel. Unfortunately I don't think they like that idea, and are poised ready to attack Zen with all of their might, and from the little of the fighting I've seen from them so far, I can successfully say that it's not too promising. All Zen has to protect himself from these three trained murderers is a bit of rope, and I can't help but smile.

"Impressive speech, but let's see if you're as good with fighting as you are with your words," Current sneers, and is about to charge at Zen when Wolfgang sticks his arm in front of him, stopping him from advancing.

"No," he whispers simply, his voice like a shiver in the trees, studying Zen carefully, "not yet."

"Why not?" whines Current, glaring Zen down. In answer Wolfgang just looks at Boudicca simply, and her face turns from a menacing sneer to a look of bafflement as she studies Zen and takes it all in.

"Oh yes, this one's trained all right," she says carefully.

"What? He's a stammering district eight runt!" exclaims Current.

"Well then, where is his stammer?" Boudicca asks and Current's mouth opens slightly in shock, "and look at his feet, they're hip length apart, his knees are crouching and his back is straight, his feet are turned at the correct angle, he's in a textbook fighting stance."

"You what?" gasps Current in surprise, looking at Zen again, taking all of this in.

"Our little stammering district eight runt has been getting some very special training, and I bet it wasn't from that blob of a mentor he has!" Boudicca states chillingly, my ears censoring out what she just said about me, but I sense something in her eyes when I look into them, deep down, like a passage to her soul. Her heart isn't with what she's saying about me, as my heart wasn't in with the careers in my games. No, she clearly doesn't like this at all, any of it, and is playing it for the cameras. Unfortunately Zen doesn't seem to be able to censor out everything she said like I was, and a roar of anger escapes his lips, his eyes fiery with anger.

"You don't want to have said that, I'm just mad that little Juniper wasn't here as well, then I could have taught her a lesson too!" Zen yells angrily, baring his teeth.

And then, instead of what's predicted, Zen's the one that charges at the careers. Angel, scared and knowing Zen's clear instructions, and obeying the clear yell that Zen calls when he charges at the careers, a cry of 'run!'; scampers off into the undergrowth as fast as she possibly can. After barely a moment's pause, Wolfgang swiftly curves around Zen's two metre radar, as if knowing that rope clutched firmly in his hands has something to do with his attack, and hurries after Angel quicker than Zen can stop him.

"If you go after your little _girlfriend_ now, you'll leave us open to attack you from behind, and even if you somehow get away, you'll never beat Wolfgang. If you fight us then by the time you've finished being beaten to a pulp, Angel will have suffered the same fate," Current giggles excitedly, while I sense a look of almost pity of Boudicca's face.

"Then I'll just have to get this over with quickly then!" Zen roars, charging straight at the two careers. Both of them leap to either side and scurry around him, so that they've both switched positions with him, also blocking off his exit and route to Angel.

"I'll leave this to you Current," Boudicca says simply after a slight pause of them both staring Zen down, only to have their glares returned, her eyes hollow and empty, as if she's just blocked out all emotions. "I know how much you want a chance to prove yourself, so here it is. I'll go and get Wolfgang once he's finished with the little girl..."

"Her name is Angel, Angel Rise, and you'd do well to remember it!" yells Zen angrily, almost desperately, at Boudicca. I see a pang of guilt register across her face before she turns and flees.

"All on my own; fight him?" gulps Current, staring at the savage Zen glaring down him, gritting his teeth manically. Current suddenly looks a whole way out of his league. But as Current is focusing on Zen's face and Boudicca's scurrying off, following Wolfgang and Angel's tail, I am focusing on Zen's hands, and the rope grasped in them. I can barely see his hands for the frantic twisting and turning they're doing, contorting the rope until Zen lifts the end up proudly, the rope having been shortened by about a quarter of a metre, and in its place a large knot is fixed onto it, about the same size of his fist.

"A knot?" scoffs Current, a cocky look suddenly on his face as he withdraws his sword from his sheath, "I could break through that in seconds."

"Oh yeah then, let's see you try," sneers Zen, letting the rope suddenly swing towards Current with such motion all he can do is stumble just out of range, the rope narrowly avoiding him. It's strange when I think about it, two fourteen year-old boys, clearly skilled; fighting it out for their lives, but then again, this is all part of the Capitol's sick entertainment.

Zen swings the rope, guiding it over his head and spiralling it down again so it's on Current's level. Just as he leaps back again, Zen charges forward, the rope getting closer and closer to Current. Current has no choice, he can't run away from it now or Zen will just move wherever he goes, he can't duck it since it's too low for that if Zen were to guide it and I doubt he could leap it easily; unless he wants to get hit he's just going to have to stop it.

Current's sword slices through the air angrily, chopping into the knot where the rope is, and stopping it in its tracks. A small smile of triumph appears on his face when he realises that he's jammed Zen's rope to his sword, meaning Zen is effectively weapon-less. Weapon-less? A bubbling sensation rises through my stomach and starts to crawl up my neck, and I feel like I'm going to be sick. This is it, this is Zen's death, at the hands of... him.

"You're going to die now," Current sneers at Zen from just over a metre and a half away as he starts getting ready to sever the rope.

But instead of crying or begging or screaming Zen just smiles, and then laughs – a humorous and warming laugh, the type you make when you've just made a very funny joke, that's a personal thing between yourself and yourself. However, this laugh seems to unhinge Current slightly since it's so natural, heartfelt and something that lifts my spirits immediately. Where is Hercules? I need him now!

"What is it! What is it!" Current shrieks anxiously, trying to calm himself as panic rides through his body, making himself almost rigid with fear until Zen finally stops laughing and dies it down into a soft chuckle.

"You, my friend, contrary to what you might like to think, are the one that's going to die."

And with that Zen yanks on the rope and suddenly, without any prior warning, he rips the rope back, Current's sword attached to it, stuck in the dens knot which seems to have gripped the sword, as if it was Zen's plan all the time to get Current to use his sword to block the rope so Zen could rip it away, and Current barely able to let go in time. When the rope launches in his hands he pulls a thread on it, untangling the knot and Current's only weapon clanks on the ground beside him. Zen pauses and sees the boy's scared and whimpering face when the realisation of his death hits him.

"I'm sorry," he mouths and then lets the rope shoot out and trip Current up, causing him sprawl on the floor. With a delicate pause, he picks up Current's own sword, briskly walks towards him, slings the rope over his shoulder to create a loop of it, and plunges the sword down, piercing Current's rib cage with a dismantling crunch.

I see Zen's face pale slightly, and a wave of nausea start to take him over, making him lean onto a tree and gasp for air, leaving the sword in the body in total utter disgust, even though he's surrounded by air he's trying desperately to inhale, his body refusing to do so. He's acting as if he was drowning underwater, whereas he's not, it's almost like he's a landed fish, waiting patiently and desperately for death. But then a shriek breaks out across the arena that causes him to stumble into the undergrowth, hurrying on as fast as he can, not even bothering to check the dead body for supplies, echoing around the arena as he launches off. That cry for help is unmistakable; it's the scream of a twelve year-old girl. And they just called out Zen's name.


	36. Just Too Late

**A/N: **By the way, with the current 261 reviews we have on this, and an average of 6 reviews per chapter at the moment, when this finishes at chapter 50 we should have 351 reviews, which is fifteen reviews short of at least drawing with Kill Or Be Killed (which is a little target I've set myself, and all you lot). So that means we need at least 7 reviews per chapter now, to _draw_ with the amount of reviews Kill Or Be Killed has (uhuh, this computer comes with a calculator! ;P). So come on guys, I need your help here! I'm not about to ransom chapters for reviews or anything silly, it's just that I want to make this the most sucessful story I've ever written on here, which, when you think about it, is fair enough. So all you guys (there's about thirty of you reading this at least, I should know) PLEASE pop in a review or two and help me out, okay? Please?

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><p>By the time Zen gets there it's just too late. He ran faster than any mutt I've ever seen, using the rope to literally swing over large obstacles such as trees or fallen logs, he cut through the poisonous ivy trying to snare and entangle him with his bare teeth, never minding the consequences, he yelled madly as water sprayed everywhere when he leapt through a pond, not even bothering to run around as he charged through it in pure desperation. Yes, I decide, Zen has officially gone mad.<p>

But when he gets there it's just too late, as it was for me with Vivian and as it was with Precious to save Anvike. Just too late. The hammering of his heart, the pain as he screams manically. His charge to there, that spot, at the edge of the muddy patch of trees, finishes when he screeches to a stop. Finishes when he has to stop, not just mentally blocked by the sight in front of him, but physically blocked by Boudicca, her arm almost gently probing the space in front of him, not blocking him in a menacing way, but a delicate one, as if to say _you don't want to go there_. And you don't, because Zen is just too late.

Angel's body lies on the floor, almost like she's sleeping, you wouldn't know the difference if it wasn't for the small trace of red across her neck and her clear eyes open, yet leeched of colour somehow. All because Zen is just too late. Her coal coloured hair, just like what they mine in her district, is curled around her face just like it was when she entered arena and had just stepped out of her stylist's grasp. Just too late. Her olive skin has barely a speck of dirt in it, clean and purged of anything, yet anything includes life. Just too late. Her glassy grey eyes stare through the thick, dense patch of forest, right up into the open sky as if dreaming, wishing, waiting; yet her dream was just too late. Just too late.

"Can you- can you let me through?" Zen croaks at Boudicca in hope, his voice barely able to say anything, but instead of the expected brisk shake of the head there's a silent nod of acceptance and understanding as her hand withdraws and lets him past.

Carefully Zen creeps forward as if he is standing on sacred ground. I can't help but feel a terrible bubbling sensation rise again in my stomach, but it's slower this time and is accompanied by a shiver down my spine, this reminds me too much, too much of what happened to Vivian, to Dral, to Precious and to Anvike, to June and to Suzie, to every single tribute in that arena, I was just too late to save them. Just too late. Zen creeps forward another step, as if feeling out the ground for traps, yet his eyes never even once, for a flicker, leave the sight of Angel's dead body to properly check for them, as if it was just a wild fantasy, hoping, dreaming, that this whole situation is one. Finally, step by step, knowing breath, by knowing breath; he reaches her with the knowledge that he was just too late.

Dead. That word strikes both me and Zen with all my might as he topples onto his two knees next to her dead body, and I can even hear the drunken moans of her mentor, Haymitch Abernathy distantly in the background. If only I could get drunk too, if only I could wash away all I am feeling now in a swig of a bottle. All of what little memories I've had about Angel flicker before my eyes, ignoring the cannon fire ricocheting around the arena signalling that yes, Zen was just too late.

First of all, her at the reaping. The trembling face filled with bitter determination, bitter determination to win. But that could never happen. As far as I know there's only been four tributes who won at the age of twelve. Two of them I know or have heard of - May Flutter, from district eight, and Drisabella Combe from district nine. Yes, the chances of Indi or Zen winning are slim, way too slim. Never mind Angel, who never seemed to have bad though cross her mind; but that doesn't mean she deserved to die.

I think back to her chariot rides and her interview, something was chilling about her, something scared me, and it wasn't her herself. It was the barbarism that she was in the games. Indi may be twelve, but she knows how to stick up for herself, as did May Flutter and Dizzy, but Angel? Angel and that little boy from district seven? Did they even have the tiniest bit of a chance? No; because whatever happened, it was just going to be too late.

He sob that escapes Zen's lips startles me, as he pressed his face in desperation to Angel's chest, not believing the cannon fire, hoping for any sign of a beating heart, but there is none. The doctors have never made a mistake before, claimed anyone was dead when they weren't; no, she is truly gone. Yet Zen can't accept that, he won't accept that, and his face suddenly turns steely as he turns away from Angel's dead body, almost in disgust.

"Where is he?" Zen croaks, then swipes off a tears from his face, "WHERE IS HE?"

In reply Boudicca simply points down to a body as cannon fire calls through the forest again, counting up the death toll. Wolfgang Lupe... Wolfgang Lupe is dead.

His black dreadlocks frighten me, especially hand-in-hand with a silver one, streaking there. But it's only the back of his head I see, only the back of his dead body, and Zen has even less desire than me to roll it over, just to reveal his silent yet deeply menacing features. Instead we just stare, stare as his grey jacket he got from his backpack cloaks him, almost hiding him from the world.

"What- what happened?" Zen says, his stammer coming back, and not just for the benefit of the Capitol audience.

"I killed him," Boudicca says simply, frowning at the body in front of him, "I killed him."

There's a silence that echoes around the forest while Zen stares blankly at Wolfgang's dead body, trying to blank out Angel's from his mind.

"I'm assuming from that cannon fire you killed Current too," Boudicca pauses, accepting a slight nod from Zen as a yes, not prying more. "You know, Current Swan was the youngest of three brothers. They always looked down on him as petty and annoying, yet he always wanted to prove himself to them. He wasn't ready for the hunger games, he shouldn't have kid himself into thinking that, no, but he _was_ desperate. You see, the reason he volunteered was because his elder brother got reaped, and he was the only one in the family who had been training for the games. They shunned him for it, training, volunteering; his family. They thought it was stupid, but he saved his brother's life didn't he? He saved his brother's life at the sacrifice of his own, and I respect him for that, even if all he came across as was desperate and annoying.

"Now there's Wolfgang Lupe. He had parents who dominated his life, wanted to make him into a weapon, as if he wasn't even a person. He trained every moment of his life, blocked out all emotions, ready for this. Then the moment his parents said the word the sent him, their own son, off to his death. All because they were too selfish to have put their own life on the line when it was their chance. He had no real emotions he felt, or none that he showed anyway. He was oppressed and bullied into everything, though he didn't look on it like that. In fact, I'm sure he wouldn't have even lived in his house in victor's village if he got it, his parents would have and as a reward he would have got their old house, with instructions not to die or they'd have to move back in. How horrible, how horrific, how _savage_ a thing to do, for parents to turn their own son into a weapon to do their choosing. And we all know why they did it..."

Boudicca breaks off, not wanting to say anything else, knowing it would cause her own death to blatantly accuse the Capitol for murder on live television.

"Oh," is all Zen can say, "Can I- can I say something about Angel?"

Boudicca simply nods her head in reply.

"Well, Angel, Angel Rise, had no siblings. She had no friends, no family. No-one. She was never used to people, all they did was tell her to go away, she lived on the streets and scavenged for a living. And people shunned her too, for everything, even her mere existence. I bet some people were actually glad she got reaped, however cruel it was, because she meant nothing to any of them, _nothing_. Yet she was, I mean, she _is_ the most decent person I think I've ever met. She's never lied, she's tried her best not to cry and to stand up and be brave. At times she could be annoying, wanting to know the meaning to absolutely everything you do, even if it's best if she didn't know, but she was a good person, she was the _perfect_ person, but as you know... perfect doesn't live in the hunger games."

Zen's face has become stonily pale, and still, and instead of the pure sorrow he showed earlier now the one emotion that fills his face is hatred, pure and honest hatred, "and you killed her," he spits out. Yet the person he's saying it to isn't Wolfgang, he's looking up, up into the sky. And I know what that means more than anyone. He's addressing the Capitol.


	37. And Then The Phones Start Ringing

**A/N:** Okay, so I admit that this is possibly the shortest chapter in either Shattered Hearts, Falling For Him or Gnawing Hunger, but at least it's a chapter, right? Anyway, the reason I took a few days to get this beauty out is that I had been absolutely swamped in work and that I started another story (yes, another) but this time in the Naruto genre. It's about three _new_ awesome ninja who are about to take the Chunin exam (the exam to become a Chunin, the second level of being a ninja). So if you've actually ever watched or read any Naruto (or even if you haven't) go and check it out... please? Because so far in my two amazing chapters I've only had one reviewer and a ridiculously low amout of hits. So yes, I command you - go and read! You can read this chapter after that, in fact I doubt you'll be that impressed with this chapter, lame as it is. Also, one more thing to say - my plea for reviews really actually worked! I got a grand total of 12 reviews in the previous chapter (double what I got in the chapter before) and I can say that I am very impressed in you, and surprised of what (or rather, who) came out of the woodwaork when I called for reviews. Thank you again! xD

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><p>I sit on the swivel chair which for once isn't being swivelled, staring at Zen's face and gaping, my mouth dropped open almost like a dead fish gulping for air in total desperation.<p>

And then the phones start ringing.

I didn't exactly know there were any phones in here until they suddenly burst to life like a mockingjay would to song. Suddenly, out of the blue, they chirp into action. With a quick glance around I confirm it. There is one, two... no _three_ phones hung up on the wall, and two of them are buzzing with a lively air about them. And that's what Hercules is faced with when he enters the room, me gaping at Zen and the vibrating phones drilling at the wall with their constant rattling while Zen's is face dominating the screens, a scowl fixed right at the cameras, right at the Capitol.

"What- what happened here?" Hercules stutters, a dumbfounded look plastered across his squashed face.

"Oh, you know... Zen just had a huge hack at the careers, taking two down with him including their all-powerful and undefeatable leader and then blamed the Capitol for killing his ally, Angel. Nothing much, just the usual."

"_What_?" Hercules exclaims, a look of such total shock and that totally being caught off guard feeling that seems to dominate the room alongside it.

"All true," I sigh. "Angel's dead. Current's dead. Wolfgang's dead. Oh yes, and Zen teamed up with Boudicca. At least I think so, by the looks of their staring at each other gormlessly as if nothing had just happened before. Ever."

"Right then," Hercules says, rubbing his hands together briskly and snapping himself out of his fuzzy daze, "you answer one of the phones; I'll deal with the other. If it's a sponsor say yes, a preposition for sponsorship set a date, and if it's the Capitol ringing to speak to me about Zen's actions- say I'm not here."

"Roger," I say whilst giving Hercules a mimed salute, winking at him and hurriedly grasping the nearest buzzing phone in my hand, anticipation suddenly flooding over me though I honestly can't see why. Zen's Hercules' tribute, why should I be worried? I mean he's not exactly meant to be important to me...

Is he?

"Kara Jaymond speaking," I hurriedly gabble down the phone in my overly posh accent, trying to drown out the sound of my beating heart thudding desperately against my ribcage as it tries to escape its bodily prison.

"Greetings," a posh Capitol voice echoes down the phone to me, "Is Mr. Stayton there Miss Jaymond?"

My heart thuds against my chest, trying yet again to wrench itself from the cruel bars of fate surrounding it and blocking it from escape. What is this? What does it mean? I slowly calm myself down and speak carefully down the phone, measuring my words as I go.

"Mr. Stayton is... otherwise occupied," I manage to let out without a croak.

"Oh, I except he's dealing with another sponsor, am I correct?" the voice asks pitifully and I glance at Hercules just to see him frantically shaking his head as if he was trying to dry it like a wet dog would do to its fur.

"Err... not that I am aware of, would you like to leave a message?" I say.

"Oh, I suppose so. Ask him if dinner at ten thirty this evening would be alright," the voice commands and I glance over to Hercules to see him mouthing the words 'make it nine thirty'.

"I believe that is his shift for looking after the tributes, as it is currently mine. But I wonder if you'd be obliged for half past nine?"

"Half past nine?"

"Yes, half past nine."

"Very well, I will arrange it."

"Thank you," I call down the phone in glee.

"No, thank _you_ Miss Jaymond."

Than the phone cuts off to leave me listening to the unsettling crackle of static and the beckoning silence, reaching out its lengthy gnawed finger scything its way through the air and motioning me forward and into its deathly realm.

"Got it?" Hercules asks me as he slams his phone down too.

"Yeah," I sigh, "I got it."

"Thanks so much Kara, you're a life saver. Just got one signed up for Zen too. It looks like he's quite the mister popular all of a sudden. What exactly did he do to take those two careers down? And how did he manage it with that strange leader, Wolfgang Lupe?

"It wasn't him," I sigh.

"What?"

"Boudicca took down Wolfgang; slit his throat after he killed Angel. I think maybe a butchering of one so young might have unhinged her."

"And Current?"

"Zen dealt with Current, and showed some style with that rope while he did so, I can tell you."

"Oh," is all Hercules can say at the moment.

"Hey Hercules," I perk, suddenly noticing the lack of our third and final mentor, "where's Lumina?"

"In bed, didn't feel too well." Hercules bleakly mumbles, looking down as if ashamed at his feet.

"Ah well, she'll be fine soon though, won't she?"

At my words his face pales slightly, "Kara..."

"Yup?" I ask, relieved that all of the stress is off my and oblivious to Hercules' strangely serious expression all of a sudden.

"Can you... Can I confide in you?"

"You sure can try," I grin, blissfully unaware of what's coming.

"It's Lumina. I just went to see the doctor about her, and it turns out that, that..."

"Oh no," I breathe out. By the look on Hercules' face it can't possibly be good. It feels as if all the wind has just been shoved out of me and I remain standing there, trying desperately to suck in air like a beached whale, flailing around in desperation as I slowly get swamped and drown. I know nothing good can come of this, this serious face and flooded confusion which now swamps me. I just want to know, I just need to know. Now.

"It's Lumina. She's pregnant."

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><p><strong>AN: ***bam*! A couple of you guessed it, which is surprising since it's, I think, the first time someone actually guessed a plot twist of mine! So well done for you lot. Only putting a review in here to remind you to (fanfic acocunt or not) press that wonderful button below to review my chapter and then go and check out "To Become A Chunin", my first Naruto fic.


	38. In A Blink Of An Eye

**A/N: **Hi all, sorry I took a week to write this. I could tell you about every single second of my busy and exceedingly hectic life since the last update, but I honestly don't have the time since it's eleven in the evening and I desperately want to get some sleep since I won't get some until about two in the morning tomorrow (long story - can't be bothered to explain it). Anyway, we have an epic chapter today. So much happens in it. It starts with Kara in bed, then she walks down a corridor and then she enters a room. That is all that happens in this chapter. But hey, it's still a good chapter. And yes, I have still managed to put a reasonably good cliffhanger on the end (I call that skill). I hope you enjoy it, and that I get at least 12 reviews this chapter (I got 12 last chapter and 13 before, so that's a wonderful goal to aim at which I probably won't get) so please go on and read!

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><p>I lie awake in bed, unable to get to sleep. Every time my eyelids droop I am suddenly presented with a rapid succession of haunting images – President Snow brandishing a picture of me and Alder when I leaned over his shoulder as if it looks like we're together; Zen and Indi getting mutilated on screen as I stand by in district eight Cets, powerless to help them; Lumina scrunched in a foetal position on my bed, sobs racking through her body as I stare gormlessly by, unable to help her as she goes through a traumatic breakdown. I breathe in heavily again and try once more to seal my eyes tightly shut but instead this time I'm presented with an image of the metallic claw of a hovercraft reaching down and gripping Zen, plucking him from the arena as a child would to daisies and then crushing him slowly in the machine's hand. Squeezing him until his bones crack and his limp body lies senseless in the callous arms of the hovercraft that, even then, refuses to let him go and toys with him, tossing him around lightly as if his dead body means less than dirt to them. The Capitol. The ones that he insulted.<p>

My eyes fly open once more and a searing pain stabs through my head. No, no I can't bear this any longer. I'll just have to get up and fight exhaustion on my feet. It's better than the alternative, I know that for certain. Lying in the pitch black and letting my emotions swell inside me isn't going to help anyone, let alone Indi and Zen, so I groggily sit up in bed and try to banish the flash of Whitney dragging her impossibly sharp nails down my cheek as my eyes flutter shut and then almost immediately after open once more.

I decide, knowing that my nightie is too skimpy for my liking, to sling something over the top to keep myself both modest and sane. With a dressing gown wrapped around me I feel both warmer and more comfortable, let alone a lot more covered. Reluctantly I drag my weary body out of the room which seems to have been smeared in purple when glancing at it in the barely lit light. The hallway appears impossibly long at this hour, and seems to stretch out almost like an aisle in the way it is constantly expanding and elongating.

But somehow I manage to struggle through it and find myself by Lumina's door. Just as I'm about to knock my hand wavers reluctantly in the air. Would she really want me to just burst into her room like that? Especially at this hour? Especially with the knowledge that I've only recently obtained? The answer is both blunt and simple – no.

But then who do I go to, if anyone at all? The thought of lying down on my bed while images flash before my eyes pushes me on again to wade even deeper down into the depths of the corridor and thoughts whir around my mind as I continue to plod along the never-ending row of doors. Then who could I go and talk to? Not Alder, that's for certain. I've always found him an attentive listener, with him not being able to talk and all, but with the rumours Debbie's already fixed into her mind I think that knocking at his door in the middle of the night might be stretching it too far; anyway, I don't even know where his door _is_. That accounts for Zap too. And even though Ally's won back some of my trust I'm still not knocking on his door at any hour if I can help it.

Hercules and Lumina are best left alone tonight, that's decided. If I were to go to see Finnick, the guy who seems intent on stalking me, I think that the two best looking victors meeting up in the middle of the night wouldn't exactly go without any notice; we'd be the centre of the gossip mill for weeks on end. Basically, as far as I can work out, I can't see anyone of the male gender whatsoever at this hour. Debbie would blow a fuse if she knew I'm still up at this hour and I'm pretty sure Alas would burst into tears if I turned up in the stylist's area anyway. I thought I was surrounded by friends but at a time like this I find myself terribly alone; and it really is quite frightening.

Who is there left then? Dizzy? Even the mere shadow of a thought about meeting up with her in the middle of the night disappears when I remember the grand finale of her hunger games and the terrifying way she chanted those words, forcing her opponent to drive a knife into her own chest. No, maybe I won't be seeing Dizzy. She creeps me out enough, and seeing her at night sounds even worse when I play the idea back to myself. Johanna? No, she'd probably kill me, same goes for Whitney. In fact, same goes for over half of the victors here with me. They truly would kill me if I interrupted their beauty sleep, or at least take a good shot at it. I can successfully say I'm less liked than Dizzy here. At least everyone keeps out of her way for fear of her making a voodoo doll of them and savagely attacking it with a sharp knife, but with me they just thing I'm stupid and full of myself, which I probably am when I think about it. But hey, who wants to think about it?

Before I know what I'm doing I find myself pressed against a wall, the lack of temperature seeping into my skin and the slightly coarse texture rubbing against my hand, causing it to itch slightly. I prise myself off it and look around dizzily. That's great, that's just great. I always wanted this to happen – to walk into a wall in the pitch black. Well one thing's now for certain and that's that this corridor isn't getting any longer. Just as I'm about to turn back around and skulk to my bed in total reluctance and defeat I notice a noise. Nothing much, just a brief murmuring noise, almost like a humming. I freeze and strain my ears to pick it up and there it is again. A kind of whispering noise, like a hurried and muttered conversation is going on. But where? I clench my jaw tightly as my ears desperately try to pick up some noise, any noise.

Eventually I pinpoint the location with a hurriedly covered up coughing fit. Whoever this is they clearly don't want to be caught. It's coming from the room next to where I'm standing but while I squint at the name plaque on the door I can't quite make out who it belongs to. I pause for a second, uncertain, then curiosity gets the better of me and I find myself pushing the door open a crack. Immediately the hushed tones cease and I hear an urgent scrambling noise accompanied with the sounds of several sets of feet diving for cover as if they were being bombed.

"Err... hello?" I ask as I push the door open a tiny chink more, squinting into the darkness that seems to envelope me.

"Hello?" I repeat, my eyes darting around in the darkness, searching for any movement. Until I find it. In a flash of a mere second or so from total black there's the rather handsome and currently pretty scary figure of Finnick Odair standing metres away from me. And he's got a trident aimed straight at my throat. All in a blink of an eye.


	39. The Face Of The Rebellion

**A/N: **Here's a decently sized chapter for you. I hope that if you've just read the previous chapter and hopped straight onto this one that you at least had the time to pop in a little review because I know that the quicker I update the smaller number of reviews I get, which is awkward because even though I want reviews I know you want the chapter quicker. so please sort this out by making the previous statement untrue and giving me a review where it's due! (Not that reviews dominate this, just I really find them beneficial to help me improve as a writer)

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><p>"Hey Finnick," I say cheerfully, waving my hand in what starts as an ordinary greeting wave but then ends up raised above my head with the other one in a surrender position. "Are you going to tell me <em>why<em> you've got a trident aimed at my throat?"

I squint and see Finnick's face crumple slightly in the dark as he recognises my voice. "Kara?" he asks, inquisitive, and then flicks on a lamp by the side of the bed causing the room to light up with a rather drowsy flicker. "Kara!"

"Err... yeah, who did you think it was, President Snow?"

Finnick remains silent on that last comment and then slowly retracts the trident from my neck, pulling it down and hastily shoving it under the bed. I take a hurried glance around as I let my arms sink back down to my side. The only thing I think I can use to describe the room is pink. Pink and fluffy. The walls are a sort of soft baby pink, the carpet a heavy fluorescent pink which fluffs up beneath your toes, the bed frame a silvery-pink while the covers are a light pink dashed with splatters of the deeper shade of the very same colour. The wardrobe is pink as is the chest of drawers, the door to the bathroom, the trunk at the bottom of the bed, the pictures of random pink blobs and the make-up set slung into the corner. Even the blinding scent of something that strongly resembles perfume which hangs in the air tastes bitterly of pink.

"Finnick... is this your _room_?" I ask in astonishment, shock not being quite enough to cover it.

"No, it's _mine_," a voice calls out from behind the bed frame and none other than Whitney slides up from behind it, a sneer slapped on her face as her layered shock white hair glare at me as her eyes, which seem to actually be some type of light purple, squint as they adjust to the light.

"_Whitney_?" I ask, astonished.

"Who did you think it was? President Snow?" Whitney mimics my earlier reaction, the snide sneer never quite dropping from her face.

"Yes, but..." I turn on Finnick, "what are you doing in _her_ room?"

Finnick's face flushes a rare shade of maroon at the suggestion in my voice and then in the fact that he's pretty much as decent as me, some loose pyjama bottoms and then a hurried dressing gown slung over him, just as I have on.

"It's kind of complicated Kara, well, the thing is..."

"Oh shut up boy, you'll get it all wrong!" a gruff voice yells and I see none other than district twelve's drunken mentor, Haymitch, desperately try to heft himself out of the chest at the bottom of Whitney's bed. Unfortunately I don't think he's got the muscle or the energy to do so, and as the chest opens I clearly note why there's so much perfume in the air. The drunkard reeks of heavy alcohol and reluctantly Finnick steps forward and tries to heft him up. Whitney, in fear of breaking a nail, stays put. This causes an angry growl and next to Whitney leaps up none other than district seven's very own Johanna Mason.

"I still don't know why I'm the one that has to hide under the bed with _her_," she snarls. "Everyone knows I hate her guts." She shows this by prodding Whitney firmly with a finger and then leaping up before Whitney can retaliate and hefting Haymitch out of the chest alongside Finnick. Eventually he escapes with a loud pop.

"Why? Why are you all here?" I gasp in shock.

"Oh you haven't seen half of it yet," sighs Johanna before raising her voice to a quiet yet summoning shout, "Nuts! Volts!"

Beetee and Wiress scramble out of the wardrobe, gasping for air as they crumple onto the floor. Beetee immediately straightens up and pushes his glasses up his nose to keep himself presentable, flattening out his trousers and crumpled shirt. Evidently he and Wiress are just about the only pair not wearing pyjamas. So much for it being some wild victor pyjama party I didn't get invited to.

"Anyone else going to pop up out of nowhere?" I sigh, too shocked to be able to clasp any more surprise.

"Normally Chaff and Seeder would be here, but for some reason they couldn't come..." says Finnick with a crumpled brow, "then there's the odd victor or two who might turn up every now and then such as Mags from my district, Argon from five, Johanna's district partner Blight and of course the two morphlings from six."

"Oh don't talk about _them_," snarls Whitney in disgust.

"Right," I sigh as I glance around the room. "So... can you _please_ explain what all of you are doing here?"

"Well-" Finnick starts before he's cut off again by Haymitch.

"We're what you might call a secret organisation," he explains with slurred words, "a resistance group."

"A resistance group?" I say with a certain lack of enthusiasm, glancing around at the handful of victors. "Right then. Well, I'm sure you'll make a huge impact and-"

"We have one of the high ranking Gamemakers on our side!" purrs Whitney with excitement, causing me to whip around my head to face her, "and then we have two other people ready to jump into something we call our 'battle plan Eigcewooflia'".

"Really? Who? What is this 'Eigcewooflia' anyway; and what exactly do you expect to gain by all this? I mean, sure, it's cool and all, but do you really think you can make a huge impact?"

"What do we expect to gain? Rebellion!" shouts Haymitch in his drunken state, so loud that the other victors have to shush him.

"Okay..." I murmur slightly, "don't think I'm insulting you and your fabulous organisation or anything, but I still don't think you could do much, even with a Gamemaker on your side."

"I agree!" Johanna says to my complete surprise.

"So that's why we've decided to..." Wiress pales and flickers off, hanging her head as if in shame.

"-name you as the face of the rebellion!" finishes Beetee for her.

There's only one thing I can think of saying at the moment and it slips through my mouth before I can stop it. "No bloody way."

"Kara-" Finnick starts.

"No way. I'm not the face of the non-existent rebellion."

"You've got a face alright darling," Haymitch chuckles.

"But President Snow hates me!"

"He hates us all," Beetee explains.

"He's going to try to kill me any second, I'm sure of it!"

"You mean he hasn't yet?" Johanna asks in mock surprise.

"But people don't even _like_ me."

"Who said they've got to like a martyr?" Whitney sneers.

"Who said I'm a martyr?" I hiss angrily, "I'm not about to die for any stupid rebellion. And while I have those I love still in existence I'm not about to put their lives on the line either."

"I understand that Kara," Finnick says after a pause.

"No, no way." I say, decided. "You can find someone else for it. I'm all up for a rebellion but not at the cost of my life and goodness knows what else. Why can't you do it?"

"I'm a drunkard and no-one respects me darling," Haymitch huffs.

"The Capitol haven't exactly been easy on me, they've already got me pinned under them. Quite literally," Finnick sighs.

"Beetee and I..." Wiress starts.

"Aren't exactly the type." Beetee finishes off. I have to agree with them. The moment they become the faces of the rebellion is when all of the rebels come from district three.

"I'm all up for blowing up the Capitol but no way do I fit the job description," Johanna huffs. Again I can't help but agree. Johanna doesn't exactly have a way with words. She acts first and thinks later.

"I'm not going to die for any stupid cause," huffs Whitney when all of the remaining eyes in the room swivel towards her, "I'm only here because of you-know-what."

"You-know-what?" I whisper to Finnick.

"Don't ask," he mouths back.

"One more thing, now that's sorted," I say, "why Whitney's room? Why here?"

"It's the only room of ours that's not taped," Beetee hastily explains.

"That includes yours," Johanna states, voicing my thoughts. "Evidently your darling Capitol aren't quite as trusting as you maybe thought originally."

"I never said that," I growl and then turn to everyone, "So what is this 'battle plan Eigcewooflia' then?"

They all share a knowing look.

"It's best if we don't tell you that. You see, if you were to know then the plan would pretty much be doomed. We don't doubt your acting ability or anything, but we don't think you're good enough to pull something of that scale off." Finnick explains hastily.

"That's promising for the person you just wanted to make the face of your non-existent rebellion," I reluctantly huff even though I don't know why. Maybe being kept in the dark is a good thing for me, then I won't be able to mess up as easily as all that.

"Come on then Kara, what do you say. Will you join us?" Finnick asks and all eyes swivel around to me, waiting for an answer. My cheeks automatically burn up under the pressure even though they shouldn't really be doing so and I feel surprisingly sick.

"You want me to join you then?"

"It would be..."

"Beneficial," finishes of Beetee for Wiress.

"But not as the face of the rebellion?"

"If you insist!" Whitney snaps.

"Okay then, I'll join your stupid rebellion. But no promises of committing suicide or anything like that, okay?"

"Okay," murmurs a drunken Haymitch reluctantly.

"Good, then how should we start?"

"We start..." Wiress' voice ebbed off.

"By finding and creating a face of the rebellion." Johanna finishes, interrupting Beetee.

"And how are we going to find one of those?" I ask, surprised. This time it's Finnick that answers me though.

"We think we may have already found one."


	40. The Odds Were Never In Any Of Our Favour

**A/N: **My life's been busy. And I mean _really_ busy. So be thankful you got this chapter when you did, my apoligies for it being so long since the last one thoguh of course. I hopefully will do wlll enough on this to make this better than Kill Or Be Killed, despite the fact that there will be several less chapters. I know that about 50 of you will be recieving annoying emails every time I update this so it better be worthwhile, ja? So I hope it is. I'm not telling you who they named as the face of the rebellion until a later chapter so you'll just have to grin and bear it. I've already written the epilogue for this. Yes... I wrote it about five chapters ago. This is a song chapter (one of the ones you just love so much) and there's not much to say except my apologies for it being lat eand kinda short and I hope you enjoy it and review to show that you have!

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><p>The screens fizzle inside Cets once more and I see the limp body of Toto Byte fall from Sweet's sword to the over dramatic sound of a cannon firing. Sure, he had it coming. What, with all of that ridiculous flirting. But I guess I'll miss him slightly. He lightened up the games. Then again, one less contender for Indi and Zen to deal with.<p>

"That was brutal," Hercules growls.

"You can talk," I murmur under my breath in the knowledge of the recollection of Hercules' games that has so strongly rung through everyone's minds in district eight. Those games in which he strangled two girls at the same time, one in each arm. Then again, I've also heard rumours that Lumina killed her secret lover in the hunger games when it got down to the final two. I've also heard that he committed suicide. I honestly don't know what to believe. Anyway, the rumours about me would drive a lot further than that. Would have killed her maid and district partner if she hadn't turned out to be her half sister; murdered more people in the games than anyone else; killed her own supposed love in cold blood and dared to hold him while he died. Yes, there will be many rumours about me in the future. And many of them will hold more than an element of truth.

I ignore the graphic action replays of Toto flirting mercilessly with Sweet until she gets too fed up and sticks a sword in him to shut him up and even the flashing number '9' on the screen signalling the remaining tributes in the arena. Eight more must die...

Instead I focus on the face on Indi in her own private little square on my screen. A square which has gotten a lot bigger, I might add. Zen's fine with Boudicca, and anyway, that's Hercules' problem. I scout out Indi and see her impatiently scrabbling in the dirt to rib up some roots of some sort. I don't recognise them, but then again I was never good at plants. Instead I just tap the screen where the roots are and a little bubble comes up.

_Oranjig roots, perfectly safe. Originated from district seven. Have a mild zesty flavour and are often used in delicate soups for dieting due to their low calorie count. These roots were found-_

I stop reading. I've read it all before. Something about how they bulldozed dozens of houses just because they lay on top of a little delicacy for the Capitol's podgy mouths to gnaw on. It really does make me feel queasy when I think about it. Indi, though, starts to sing quietly while she does so, a song which seems so far away from gathering roots.

_The first time I saw you I knew at once that you weren't just some other bird,_

_The first time I saw you and I heard that song I knew it wasn't just some other words,_

_So I stepped up so proudly to take to my heart everything you sing in the future and past,_

_Here your song lightens up the bruises of the fallen so..._

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, let the tune of heroes flow,_

_Sing, sing, darling bird, don't let a single note go,_

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, sing, sing, right now today,_

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, sing, sing mockingjay,_

_Every time I stumble and have to clutch my heart I think of you and your passionate song,_

_Every time I stumble you pick me up with your melodies and thought of right from wrong,_

_So I strain my ears to hear your tune of love and prosperity to keep me going,_

_Here your song heals the burns of the fallen so..._

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, let the tune of heroes flow,_

_Sing, sing, darling bird, don't let a single note go,_

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, sing, sing, right now today,_

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, sing, sing mockingjay,_

_The last time I heard you it was definite yet the echo bounced around my mind,_

_The last time I heard you it felt infinite so I gripped onto my treasured find,_

_So here I lie in a pool of my blood waiting for death oh so patiently,_

_Here your song ebbs the pain of the fallen so..._

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, let the tune of heroes flow,_

_Sing, sing, darling bird, don't let a single note go,_

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, sing, sing, right now today,_

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, sing, sing mockingjay_

_Sing, sing, mockingjay, sing, sing to me to get past this day._

The silent dripping of Indi's water as it is filtered transfixes me for a moment, my eyes turning toward the silvery orbs as they bounce down into the crystal cup below, looking a lot more pure than when they left once they have converged and joined together with plenty more of them. It's the silence of the end of the song that does this to me, making men want to turn to the inner beauty in everything.

Suddenly the dripping stops and the water disappears all from my focus. I look up and I see a short blonde haired boy cradling the water hurriedly while an identical looking girl signals for him to hurry up and leg it. They're just pinching stuff with Indi only a few metres away? Bad move is all I'm saying. Indi may look puny and insignificant and one year younger than them but I think they just might have pushed her button _really_ badly. Indi's a thief herself and having stuff stolen from her in the arena is not something she wants, I can tell you.

"Put it back."

The words go out cold and hard and the look on Indi's face is as before as if nothing is going on at all, yet the tone of her voice is all the same.

"I said put it back," she repeats in the same grim tone.

The twins from district five share a look of uncertainty.

"No," the girl says finally, "make us."

"You really don't want me to do that," Indi says in exactly the same menacing tone as before, keeping it up.

"Maybe we should..." the boy stutters.

"No Orion, we're holding our ground," the girl commands and the boy stays still.

This causes a slight pause from Indi and then slowly she rises to her feet, the same glare present on her face. The ever so slowly she turns around, her childish features and frizzy black hair suddenly turning into quite a menacing thing.

"You put it back _now_."

"Or what?" gloats the girl with evident relish.

"Or I _make_ you put it back."

"I'd like to see you try. Orion-"

"Isis, I really think we should listen to her and put it back..." her twin brother, Orion hints with fear in his voice.

"It's two on one, the odds are in our favour," Isis hisses.

"Oh no," Indi smiles as her face locks with theirs, "the odds were never in any of our favour."


	41. Fall Of The Pharoah

**A/N: **No matter how many times I work over this chapter it never seems to be right and doesn't make a whole lot of sense. There's nothign else I can do I'm afraid, it's just one of those chapters. But ti's long, so I suppose that might make up for it slightly.

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><p>My eyes automatically clench shut as Indi's hand whips out her blowpipe and aims it at the neck of the girl as quickly as she can. I don't see the next few seconds by my automatic reaction against seeing anything that might bring back the bitter taste that tangs my tongue even now and haunts my every night, returning haunting echoes of the past. Then I hear two cannons ring out from the screen, ripping apart my desperate attempt to block it all out. My eyes burst open like a dam to cascading water. And as the dam of my eyes floods open I find myself confronted with a sight way different than the one I thought I would be looking at through the grainy screen. Instead of the two twins crumpled on the floor with a dart in their necks I find only one dart, and it is placed in neither of them. Instead I find it embedded in the neck of a mad-eyed boy with rough sandy hair and a grimace which could raise the dead. Instead I find it embedded in the neck of the boy whose arm is holding a sword, a sword tinted with blood. Both taste of metal yet as they stir and mix together an inhuman concoction from the pits of the underworld itself rises into this world, a place it should never be.<p>

The sword finds itself plunged into the lungs of a young twin with blonde hair waving at the same height as the other and the same doomed look in the twin's one eye which is still gripped open; the other clenched shut in a breathtaking pain that seems to have overridden their body from all of the painful senses that normally would encase and drown such a condemned soul as theirs. No, whichever one they are they are definitely in true trouble and that cannon more than confirms it. As if the last grip of life slips out of their clammy grip the twin's one remaining eye is viciously dragged from this world, unable to hang on anymore.

Somehow the mad-eyed boy lunged in out of nowhere and stabbed one of the two twins and Indi, acting reflexively, let a dart fly right for his neck, hitting a pressure point and knocking him stone dead.

However, in contrast to the two limp and lifeless bodies collapsed on the ground there are two standing gormlessly by in shock and in pure and unrivalled terror. Indi being one, eyeing the body of the boy from district nine – Scale Biff. Her first kill. Indi – sweet, innocent, quirky Indigo Dream. A murderer. The very thought stings at the back of my throat like bile and a newfound hatred rises like sick up my throat, an uncontrollable gurgling feeling which seems all too like choking. I of all people know that you can't control the inner demon inside yourself, as Indi just didn't.

The thing that scares me the most is that's what the hunger games have done to us – to all of us. It made me a murderer. It made Zen a murderer. Indi, Dizzy, Lumina, Hercules, Whitney, Johanna, Finnick, Nuts, Volts, even drunken old Haymitch. Murderers. Every single one of us, all of us victors. Murderers. And that's the unspoken oath that binds us, like an agreement made in blood. Yet it is not our blood that has been spilled, but the helpless blood of other innocent children as the Capitol forces us to strike one another down until the end of our very lives. There is no doubt about it. We need to cling to each other. We're even more family than we know ourselves. We may be even more family than our very own that we grip to with all our life, for we know each other's pain. We know each other's hearts. Murderer's hearts. And Indi just joined our numbers. Innocent, kind-hearted Indi. A murderer. Sinking down into the depth of darkness, the deep recesses of our minds. If she survives this she'll never be the same, none of us will. Once again I am faced with Dizzy in my mind as those words echo around my mind '_don't look at the knife, don't think about the knife; the knife is not important.' _Those words, the very same words which drove another to suicide, are the same ones which plant themselves into my mind when I see Indi gaping at the dead body of Scale in the knowledge that she killed him, and the dead body lying beside him. Orion Song, not Isis. If I could have chosen it would have been the other way around, Orion would have been the survivor and Isis would have been targeted. But choosing who dies and who survives makes me even more of a monster than I am already, even more of a worthless beast. Just like the Capitol.

He seemed so nice, yet it is his body lying there in the dirt and her panicked yells echoing throughout the forest as her vicious streak ebbs down into a screech of pure desperation. The inhuman wail which resembles no cries I've ever confronted before and reminds me of the inner pains of the deepest heart, so much like the sound that rang out from Precious' mouth that it seems like a replay of the memory all over again. I desperately try to block it out and the pain that is associated with that memory and all that tags alongside it but I have no such luck. Maybe I should just stay in my own little bubble for a while longer, basking in the emptiness for it all. But I neither the skill nor the mental power to do so and am dragged back into the reality of the hunger games.

Instead I am tugged back into the consciousness of my mind as Isis continues to wail. Her sobs strangle sentences which barely make any sense to me – the wild gabbles of a woman in dire distress. I pick up snippets about their parents and their names, the day of the reaping and even one time he borrowed her only toy and ended up breaking it. The wave of memories pouring out of her mouth mingled into the helpless shrieks are too much for me to take in so I just stare gormlessly at her, as does Indi. Fizzling back to her senses, Indi suddenly lurches forward and grips Isis' mouth tightly, subduing her wails.

"Listen," she hisses desperately, "if you make such a din every tribute from the nearest ten miles will come flocking here and I can warn you that more than one twin might die here today."

This knocks Isis back into reality slightly and she steps away from Orion's body in dismay. "They... should have called him Osiris," she sniffs. "Isis and Osiris, ancient Egyptian gods. Orion is a constellation. Shows how thick my parents are, just like him. I was the brains and he was the brawl. Always went that way, just the way it did. He was always unbelievably thick, and that's why- that's why I loved him..."

"That's why you _love_ him," sighs Indi and then tugs on Isis' arm, a bit gentler this time. "Come on, let's go. If we stay here we might meet something unpleasant coming for the body and I doubt either of us fancy that."

"No," Isis croaks. It starts off barely a whisper and then she looks up straight into Indi's eyes with a gruelling determination in her own. "No! I stay here. I'm not leaving him like this, no way. You go on ahead. We've always been inseparable and I'm not about to break that now. Not even death can stop us being together. I made my mum promise to bury us in the same grave when we get back home, I didn't tell dad – he'd probably want no more pessimistic thoughts like that ringing around. But that's the way it is. No way could both of us live and even one of us living is pushing it way too far. So I stay."

"You'll die..." Indi says, her voice fading away when she finally gets it. As she finally understands.

"That's the point," growls Isis and then turns away from Indi, hiding her face form her. But I can see it with the help of the Capitol's sneaky cameras. A lone tear rolls down her face, carving its way across her paper pale skin. Indi's face is also a picture, yet confusion no longer resides in it.

After a moment's pause Indi starts to walk away, but before she can something thuds by her feet on the ground. She looks down in surprise and sees the bottle of water and packet of iodine tablets at her feet alongside a long, thin knife with a coloured piece of string tied around it seemingly for decoration.

"Won't do me much help," Isis croaks.

"But this knife..."

"It was Orion's. Won't do him much help either. Just stick it in one of your boots for emergency uses. It won't do much for you, but neither will I. Now go."

The authority in her voice can't be mistaken and without either of them turning to face each other once again Indi hurriedly gathers up her few supplies and jogs off, out of the patch of forest and into the sloping mud spiral that has become the arena, salt water miraculously rising at the bottom for each death and the size of the arena shrinking and shrinking. I crinkle my brow and think about how many of them there are left now – Boudicca, Sweet, Isis, Juniper, Misty, Zen and Indi. Seven. Looks like Zen's the only boy left, just him and a handful of girls. Cannon fire. Six then. The mutt that kills Isis is one I don't look at in the knowledge that it very well will be too much for me, but Hercules mutters something about giant spiders. At least it was quick. The scent of Orion's dead body was sure to draw them, and Isis being so close meant the hovercraft couldn't pick him up. So the twins are both dead. Final six, and already they've sunk into the final eight - just.

"Who died first – Orion or Scale?" I ask Hercules simply.

"Scale," Hercules says.

"Okay, so do you think they'll pull in the twin's parents for the final eight interviews?" I ask, a tang of guilt building up inside me as I refer to them as _the twins_.

"Yes, they will. Anyone in the final eight will be represented, even if they're dead."

"Hercules-" I murmur.

"Yes?"

"Who will come for Zen and Indi?"

"Well, that's our job to decide. I choose for Zen and you choose for Indi. We better work this out now, actually. Do you know about Indi's friends, relatives?"

I rack my brains for something. "Well, she has a brother and sister. Her sister's name is Violet and is training to be a doctor. She almost volunteered for Indi but her brother stopped her, knowing that Indi probably had a better chance anyway. I could pull them in."

"Yes, good choice. Puts up a real sob story but makes her seem strong as well," murmurs Hercules. "Anyone else you can think of?"

"It might be best if I was to go up there, since I won last year and everything." I murmur.

"I agree you should go up there, but I don't think you should do it for Indi."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you should do it for Zen."


	42. It's Show Time

**A/N: **I'm sorry I took so long because I've been working solidly for... LIES! LIES! They're not even square! *btw- if you get the reference you watch _way_ too much TV*! Nah, I've been doing absolutely _nothing_ but slobbing for ages... yeah, so I eventually got around and pulled myself out of slob-mode so I could write one of these for you to enjoy in your busy-busy lives. This is chapter 42, so I guess we should make a note of that because 42 _is_ the answer to life, the universe and absolutely everything! I hope you like it and please, please, please review so this will get more reviews than Kill Or Be Killed! =D

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><p>So here I am, standing awkwardly in possibly one of the least revealing outfits I've ever worn. Yeah right, least revealing my hat. I'm basically in my underwear. I try not to curse myself as I remember nodding along to Ally, never truly listening to what he was saying. That pervert. I wish I had pushed to wear something I designed myself. Okay, it's not all that bad. Aside from the bright red glittery underwear gently covered by see-through skin coloured silk which hangs loosely around my person then my outfit's just fine. Unfortunately if I remove that then I'm standing stark naked with a pair of clunky high heels which I have never got around walking in and whistling in the wind as my long clump of blonde hair strangles itself in a huge twist, curling around my head in a way which is supposedly Roman. I decide that, no matter how much I hate this silk cover, there is no way I'm taking it off. I'm not prepared to go quite as far as Finnick yet. And I'm meant to be presented as what – Zen's sexy mentor who seems to be paired with him in a highly unlikely pairing? What is this? I definitely don't want to get paired with Zen, that's for certain. While he's cute he's just a timid little boy at heart really. Okay, so a timid little boy with a six-pack and a rather psychopathic personality maybe, yet a timid little boy none the less.<p>

"Kara, are you done gawping at yourself in the mirror and will you let me see what my arch rival has done to you?" calls Zap angrily, banging his hand on the dressing room door.

"You're not his arch rival," I call back snappily at Zen's impatience through the door, "his greatest rival's a guy called Cinna he was enemies with in design college."

"Sinner?" scoffs Zap.

"Cinna!" I yell.

"What a name," Zap sniggers.

"You're one to talk – _Static_."

"Okay, okay. Now come out with your hands up or I shoot."

"You _did_ flush that gun down the toilet like I asked, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I got another one!"

Just great. I sigh and with a roll of my eyes I step out of the changing room. There's a moment's awkward silence as Zap eyes me while brandishing yet another old fashioned gun and then he lets out a low wolf whistle, his signature cheeky grin plastered across his face.

"Zap, you moron, don't point that thing at me!" I screech as Zap moves his gun with his hand as he tries to inspect the fabric.

Instead of the snappy comeback I expect, though, all I get is a floppy hand and the gun tumbles to the floor. Zap leans forward and strokes the silk, feeling it between his forefinger and his thumb. "Interesting..." he mutters.

"What?" I ask.

"This is a very similar design to that of a piece that Ally's younger sister wore to a small Capitol disco three years ago. She left there with at least ten phone numbers, mine included."

"You had a crush on Ally's sister," I snigger, "I thought you hated him, you hypocrite."

"Whatever Kara, just saying that this is tried and tested, even if you may seem quite ridiculous to yourself at the moment," Zap says.

"Of course I seem ridiculous Zap! I can't believe I went through with this, though I suppose it's because I do owe Ally one for styling Juniper's outfits."

"And he owes you a hundred and one," Zap growls, "If I hadn't been in there to step in I don't know what would have happened..."

"Yeah, yeah. Stop your gloating already. Anyway, it's going to start soon and I want to make an entrance," I say and then push Zap out of my way, heading towards the stage.

"Don't forget to unfold your arms!" Zap calls, causing a low and rather animalistic growl to escape through my lips.

The flurry of lights cut through my mind and the rush of everything spins past my vision in a faint blur, my brain unable to keep up with my eyes. I vaguely notice being led to a chair and my name being called in a list among others as Caesar Flickerman proudly sits in his seat, waiting patiently for the show to begin as makeup artists flurry around him, dusting his face with a final hint of makeup and even one goes over my red lipstick, bringing out the look which I tried to diminish in the bathroom once more. Furtively I glance around to see who's by me. I know I'm here for Zen. Hercules didn't mention anyone else, but I'm assuming there must be someone else in Zen's life, but with a rather cautious glance around my suspicions are left to look after themselves as to my right is Indi's brother tightly gripping onto his twin sister's arm, the pair here like I arranged and to my left is a rather large woman with a puckered face and a scowl that is unmistakable. Misty. So that's what Misty's mother looks like – a hulk of scrunched up expressions and a glare which could knock anyone out flat just by the look of it. I can't say they don't share a resemblance.

But all the lights flicker on and a hush echoes through the audience as Caesar Flickerman proudly introduces the show and demands that we bring on the families of the tributes. First of all is Boudicca's family. I'm both appalled and disgusted by the way they drag on her future husband and her parents, the ones who schemed together to drag her into an arranged marriage, and pour out a sob story about how Boudicca just wants to settle down and get married. But I know that's quite the contrary and they're the very reason she's in the games, not the reason she should get out of it.

Next a rather militant man marches on and proudly announces himself as a high ranking peacekeeper and Sweet's father. In that order. Then he starts gabbling about how he was just beaten on volunteering for his hunger games and they have to actually cut down the interview with Sweet's best friend because of his constant gabbling. I find that's a shame for sweet, because she's the one the audience really want to listen to. She starts sobbing and begs for Sweet to be brought back and then cries over a short story about how she and Sweet became friends after a year or so of rivalry. It makes sweet seem almost human when brought up in this light, yet I brush it away. Indi's the one that has to win.

But it's the next people that come on stage that knocks all of the air out of me. Really, there's no mistaking the four figures that huddle together onto the stage, the second time they've been here. I know all of their names from the victory tour, unable to escape them – Coral, Ian and finally the two eleven year old twins Barley and Rye – Dral's family.

I find myself gasping for air and have to desperately clutch onto the side of my side, causing a beady pair of eyes to scowl at me in the form of Misty's mother. But soon she realises who I am and the glare that had been fixed onto her face turns into an even more frightening grin.

"You're Kara Jaymond!" she hisses at me while I desperately try to pay attention to Dral's family – not doing so would be even more disrespectful than before, now their second child is in the games and I slaughtered the first. I think just about the worst outcome is if Indi were to kill Juniper, then that would really turn into something quite messy.

"The previous victor, coming to support my very own darling Misty, I can't quite believe it!"

"No, I'm not here to-"

"Of course, Misty was never bright. But I said, I did, 'you don't need to be bright for the hunger games, do you?' and she really took that to heart. When she leapt up on that stage, well, tears of love and admiration started brimming in my eyes- my very own eyes, mind you!"

"Yes, yes," I hiss desperately, turning my face to see the family crowded onto the sofa, missing one member since I last saw them on the victory tour. I made sure that I didn't look them in the eye then, how could I? Now I feel it's a real necessity to do so or their enhanced yet starving faces will still haunt me in my sleep, as my face will no doubt to them. And I can't let that happen, I really can't.

"But what do you think, about a second child in the games?" Caesar presses.

"It doesn't seem fair," Dral's father, Ian, growls angrily, but one of the tiny eleven year old twins, Rye, hurriedly covers him up.

"- our family's just been torn apart, you know, to lose a second older sibling..."

"That's make me the oldest!" Barley says proudly, poking his chest.

"We're technically twins so therefore the same age," sighs Rye, "but yes, it would be just like him all over again."

"Him?" presses Caesar and the family share a look.

"Yes; him," Dral's mother confirms, her voice as cold as the icicles that crashed down on me in the cave in the arena last year, the very same arena where I took Dral's life. Unintentionally, maybe, yet I still took his life, didn't I?

_Why won't they say his name?_ I ask myself, anger welling inside of me, _why won't they say his name?_

"Ever since I lost my son it's been harder, and with Juniper in the games too..." Dral's mother collapses in a heap, sobbing mercilessly into her husband's shoulder.

"It's just too much to bear," Ian says simply, clutching his wife's feeble hand and averting his eyes from everyone – including me.

"Well thank you for coming in anyway," Caesar says, "and I hope we won't be seeing you again, in the kindest way possible."

The couple clutched onto each other nod and the twins tail them back to their seats. I want to desperately call out to them and explain about him, explain truthfully. Explain about Dral. Yet all that comes out of my mouth is a hoarse croak as if some heavy weights are tied onto my tongue, stopping me from breathing so much as a syllable about him, stopping me even from saying his name. His beautiful and wildly eccentric name. Dralakone Hurling. Dral.

Then, as if the sharp wind itself whips them away, they sink into the retreat of the shadows that encase the bright stage in front of me and then the other pair of twin's parents come up onto the stage, but a different pair of twins – Orion and Isis Song.

I must admit I blank out from their pleas and try to drift away to a greater place. In a way this is more cruel than the games, because I know their pleas are different. They've just lost two children, they're not asking for them to be returned to district five alive, they're asking that they may lay their children's dead bodies to rest, side by side, at home in district five. Prior to custom, yet that is what they would have wanted. I zone out for so long I only know it's my turn to go up by a rather insensitive nudging and an angry glare from Misty's mother. I guess she realised that I'm not here for Misty after all, like she originally assumed. Okay then, it's show time.


	43. A Job Well Done

**A/N: **I wrote this collectively with one of my dear friends, aka, the pig. She's been mentioned a couple of times in some ancient harry potter fanfics. anyway, she only suggested a couple of ideas but they were very good ones, like the Debbie wig scenario. I hope you enjoy and please review because I want to make this the most reviewed story, not Kill or Be Killed, and if you like it feedback is very useful! This will have 50 chapters overall, including the epilogue like Gnawing Hunger, so please hurry up and get those reviews in here, we're not in safe waters yet! =D (cheesy and quite desperate writer's message or rather, plea)

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><p>"Hello again Kara, we just seem to keep bumping into each other, don't we?" Caesar asks me pleasantly, a sweet sugar coated smile drifting across his lips.<p>

"I hope it's not an unpleasant experience," my alter-ego Clara jokes for me and I find myself stooping down low and sinking into the chair. My mind flinches at this dratted revealing outfit that Ally put me in while my body just ignores it and smiles smugly, as if it is all just one big joke. Which it is not, I might add. It is far from hilarious.

"Never Kara, never. So you're here for Zen. I honestly thought you'd be up for Indi if anyone though, because she's your tribute. Zen is half-and-half really, isn't he? So why Zen then?"

"I don't think they could find anyone else to fill the vacancy," I joke, waving my hand to emphasise that Zen has no-one else here for him.

"Ah yes, that's got us all wondering, I think," Caesar beams, "so spill the beans. Why are there none of Zen's family here?"

"As far as we can tell he doesn't have them," I sigh. "Really, he's a blank page. Once he said that if he was to die in the arena, he asked me to look after his family. Yet I can't find them and I'm even starting to doubt if they actually exist. No-one knows anything at all about Zen, most of all me."

"But what do you mean? Is there, you know, anything special between you?" Caesar probes.

I'm just about to open my mouth and pour out about the time Zen kissed me before the games and the warming feeling that brimmed over my stomach, playing it all up for the cameras with some special Clara magic, of course, when I catch a glimpse of Dral's younger sister, Rye, out of the corner of my eye. No. I can't do that. Playing yet another romance in the grasp of the games is just too cruel for both them and Zen, who knows what the consequences might be. So instead I rack my brains for a witty Clara comeback to Caesar's question.

"Aside from the air and random strands of rope I don't think there's anything between us at all, maybe not including that six-pack of Zen's," I joke.

"Zen has a six-pack?" Caesar gapes in amazement alongside the audience.

"Yeah, I honestly wish he didn't, he was flashing it all around the carriage. I think Indi got pretty freaked out, let alone Debbie. She threw an awful fit, Debbie. Her wig nearly fell off!"

"Her wig?" sniggers Caesar and I see all of the cameras rotate to find a blushing Debbie mouthing heinous insults at me from under the safe protection of her hand so only I can see them.

"Yeah, her wig," I smile, knowing that I can't annoy Debbie much more than this and I'll be getting a very serious telling off shortly, whatever I say. "Debbie doesn't like to admit it, but she's actually bald!"

"Bald?" the audience gasps collectively.

"Yes, bald. As in no hair on her well oiled head whatsoever, those rainbow braids just had to be artificial, right?"

"But tell us more about you and Zen," Caesar steers the conversation back on target, "how's your relationship?"

"We're quite good friends really and after he got over gawping about the fact that I had legs I think we got on rather well. Of course the hunger games is a rather bug dampener on our relationship, I think."

"Oh yes, the hunger games. Do you think Zen has what it takes to win?"

"He has a six-pack, an attitude problem and a heck of a lot of rope. What more do you need? He'll be fine, Caesar. It's Indi I worry about, but I know she'll be fine also."

"Oh yes, that is rather problematic, isn't it? If you had to choose between Zen and Indi winning who do you think you'd go for?"

"You expect me to choose?" I gape, blocking out Clara's comment about backing anyone with a six-pack.

"Come on Kara, you can't stay impartial forever. At one point one of them's going to die, so if you could choose who would it be?"

"Choosing who's going to die would make me a monster," I say, repeating my thoughts from earlier. I only notice the stunned silence and the impact of what I've just said when the whole audience gawps at me. Whoops! Quick- quick! Do a super-Kara cover up!

"Though if I had to I'd go for Misty, personally," I say and there's a rather awkward pause filled with a shot of Misty's mother glaring me down as if I had just killed her myself, "I'm going to regret saying that if she wins, aren't I?"

"Uh-huh," Caesar nods, a juicy grin slathered across his face, to the cackle of the audience. The atmosphere is restored to its rightful and slightly sick density. "You're really going to regret saying that if she wins."

"That's a big if though Caesar, with six-pack boy and killer blowpipe girl about."

"I assume you're talking about Zen and Indi there, right?"

"How could you be wrong Caesar?" I say, hurriedly adding something else on, "apart from when you told Misty's mother that she's sure to win."

"Well Kara," Caesar sighs while I change it to 'Clara' in my mind, "I'd love to chat to you all night but I'm afraid that we've got one last interview left, with Indi's other siblings – the third set of twins mentioned on tonight's show. That's alright with you then?"

"As long as I can slip out of this ridiculously revealing outfit and hide from Debbie for at least twenty-four hours then I think that should be fine. Bye then Caesar!"

And with that I jolt up from my seat and almost sprint back to the cool plastic chair waiting for me dimly by the sides. I steadily breathe as Indi's elder brother and sister walk onto the stage and sit in front of Caesar. He starts quizzing them about Indi and they answer in the correct manner in all points, especially when they call Indi a force to be reckoned with. Soon the show ends and I drowsily move, almost like a zombie, up to my room, sprinting half way when I take a glimpse of Debbie hiding from flashing cameras desperately trying to take a picture of the join between her head and her hair, or rather, wig.

With a sigh of total and utter relief I let myself plummet down onto my bed, not even bothering to shove on anything past the Capitol's flimsy nightie after hurriedly shrugging off my costume. As the soft pillows encase me I let out a sigh of relief and collapse into the cloudy bliss of layers of covers and tangles of duvets encasing me as the weights climbed upon my eyelids. _There_, I told myself, _a job well done._


	44. I Work Better Alone

**A/N: **There, written a chapter for you. I know what's going on in all of the other chapters now, i just wrote a quick and rather basic plan consisting of '* kills *' and other such basic planning, but it works, so hey! Kepp on reviewing and I'll keep on writing, I couldn't do it without you reviewers! =3

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><p>By the time I wake up I know something's wrong. Maybe it's the chill in the air or that intuition that throttles me when I try to get to sleep, but I just know not everything's as it's meant to be. I step out into the corridor – deserted. That's not a usual sign for this time in the morning, or is it? I was so tired last night I honestly can't remember falling asleep, and now I don't even know the time. My ears prick slightly to try and pick anything up, but all I get is a rather chilling silence echoing around my head. My eyes hurriedly swivel towards the clock in my room and I note that it reads simply as being half past ten. Evidently not in the evening since I can see the morning light. Yet I feel too refreshed for what could have been just a few hours sleep.<p>

Pushing such thoughts out of my mind I back into my room and slam the door, leaping into the shower and not even changing the temperature settings so I'm stuck on cold, but it really doesn't matter to me. Cold is actually quite refreshing, especially at this time in the morning. If I was even slightly tired, that is.

After an amount of time which is a mystery even to me I step out and pull on some crisp clothes that I borrowed from Lumina a while back. Simply some jeans and a dark green t-shirt, clothes of such simplicity I miss them deeply from my time of being bribed into some of the most ridiculously revealing outfits that have existed in the history of Panem.

Something's still nagging me at the back of my mind though, so I drift towards Cets, knowing that soon I'll be able to tell myself that everything's okay, and ensuring that I always keep out of the way of people in general, especially Debbie. A couple of Avoxes scurry past, but not Alder or anyone I even recognise so I just meander forward until I find myself in the main domed room of Cets. I find a couple people staring at me as if I have just come back from a week long hiatus and Dizzy gives me a warm smile and then moves on.

I wander into district eight's control room and both Lumina and Hercules desperately jump out of their seats in shock when they see I'm here.

"Well I didn't expect you to be fine with me walking in at about eleven o'clock, but don't you think that's overdoing it?" I sigh.

"Kara – where have you been?" gapes Lumina.

"Huh?" I ask, "what do you mean 'where have I been'? I just went to sleep, woke up and came here."

"You mean you slept all this time?" sighs Hercules as if it is totally typical for me.

"What do you mean 'all this time'?" I ask, my brow furrowing in confusion as I sink into the third swivel chair.

"You've missed a whole day!" exclaims Hercules and now it's my turn to leap out of my seat.

"A whole day? What do you mean a whole day? Why didn't someone wake me?" I gasp.

"We wanted to but Debbie wouldn't let us look for you," sighs Lumina, "you know what Debbie can be like."

"She still upset about that wig thing then?" I sigh.

"See for yourself," groans Hercules and tosses me a newspaper onto my lap.

"The Daily Hairspray?" I scoff at the newspaper title.

"It gets worse," says Lumina in a mock accent that makes her seem bright and bubbly.

"Debbie's Do Drives Deadheads," I read from the main headline, "what?"

"The Capitol don't have much to talk about," sighs Hercules, "so they just settled with talking about a new craze in shaving off all your hair so you can wear a wig, as some stupid Capitol members are doing in honour of Debbie."

"Well isn't she happy?" I sigh.

"No, because the person who's leading it also happens to be her next door neighbour and arch fashion rival – apparently," says Hercules with a certain amount of distaste and sarcasm in his voice.

"Anyway," chips in Lumina, "You'll be glad to know that Indi and Zen are alright and aside from a Gamemaker fire driving them both out of the forest area nothing much has happened."

Oh yes – Indi and Zen. I can't believe that the first thing I enquire about after hearing I've skipped out a day of life is Debbie's hair-do, not my two tributes in the hunger games who are just about to fight to death.

"How are they? Are they okay?" I hurriedly shriek.

"See for yourself," sighs Hercules and points to the main screen. To my complete and utter surprise Indi and Zen are sitting next to each other, Boudicca standing awkwardly in the background.

"They're, they're-"

"Allies, yes Kara," sighs Lumina, "I guess this makes things slightly easier, we just have to look out for this little group."

I look at the scene playing out before my eyes on the screen, showing exactly what's going on in the arena.

"So, did you have any other allies Zen?"

Zen stiffens immediately and Boudicca steps forward and grips Indi tightly on the shoulder, steering her carefully away from Zen.

"It's best not to ask that," she hisses, "he had that girl from district twelve, you know the twelve year-old? We only ended up allying together because of her death."

"Did you- did you kill her?" Indi gasps quietly under her breath.

"No!" says Boudicca, "but I did kill her attacker, so it's best if we just stay silent on that subject, okay?"

"Oh, okay," Indi mutters and turns back to Zen. "You know those twins from district five? I- I was with them for a while. Well, only like a few minutes actually. But the girl, Isis, decided to stay by her brother's body, even if it meant submitting to death."

Zen's face is stonily cold and he stares grimly into the distance. "Zen?" Indi asks and steps towards him, "Zen? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Zen sighs and then turns to face Indi, "what about you?"

"I'm fine," says Indi, parroting Zen's very words.

A rather awkward silence fills the arena for a few more seconds until suddenly Boudicca explodes. "That's it! I can't stand it anymore! I'm just going to go off and find my own way in the games. I can't handle waiting around for something to happen. At least with the careers we actually did something!"

Both Zen and Indi gawp at her as she slings all of her possessions that she brought into the alliance onto her back and a softer expression falls over her face as she turns to see them. "Sorry, I just have to get this over and done with, I have to leave now before everything turns upside-down and goes all wrong. It's for the best, I can tell you. Anyway, I don't work well in alliances. I work better alone."

And with the words _I work better alone_ still striking the air Boudicca pads off into the distance, Indi and Zen staring at each other. Finally Indi breaks the beckoning silence.

"Zen- you have something wrong with your shirt."

Zen stares down and yes, his shirt is starting to fray around the edges. "You too Indi," Zen says inquisitively, leaning in to his shirt to examine it. As soon as his fingers touch the fabric it falls apart, flaking down onto the ground. Zen touches another patch of his shirt and it falls off. He seizes some of the clothes he got at the Cornucopia but that starts to tumble apart too.

"What is this?" he asks, shocked, as Indi's clothes start to flake off too.

There's an embarrassed silence as both of them stand up and random scraps of fabric flutter away from their outfits. Indi gapes momentarily when she looks down and sees she's only wearing her underwear.

"What's going on?" Zen, Indi, Hercules and Lumina all say at the same time.

"They're decomposing," I sigh, Lumina and Hercules suddenly whipping their heads around to face me. "I couldn't tell you about this, but this is what they do. Decompose. The clothes, they disintegrate after a set time period. Zap found out but I wasn't allowed to tell anyone, nor was he really."

"Well what do we do?" asks Lumina, "is it something in the air in the arena or what?"

"No," I say, remembering what Zap told me, "it's the fabric."

"So if we send them something then it should be fine, right?" asks Lumina.

"We're going to waste sponsor money on that?" gapes Hercules.

"Yes!" both Lumina and I snap at the same time. No way am I letting Indi and Zen run around the arena in just their underwear. It would be fine if they were both of the same gender, but that's just embarrassing.

"His six-pack," I mutter, "if anyone comes up they'll see it, won't they? Then he'll lose his coward advantage against his enemies when they see him."

"Fine," huffs Hercules and then pulls out a booklet of sponsors, "but Indi too?"

"Yes!" Lumina and I yell simultaneously once more.

"Okay, okay. Keep your wig on," says Hercules.

"Don't let Debbie hear you say that," I snigger under my breath, causing a slight chuckle to spread throughout the room.

"Right, what design clothes do you want?" asks Hercules simply, "we can put them in dresses, including Zen, have earmuffs, army boots, sandals, even get a couple of bobble hats."

"Just put them in something suitable," I say impatiently.

"And hurry up!" adds Lumina. Hercules may not mind nudity, but I know for certain Indi, Zen, Lumina and myself all do.

When the parachutes flutter down to the pair of them I can actually hear their gasps of happiness and they rip them open, glad to hurriedly shove on the simple black waterproof trousers, t-shirt and hoodie and army boots. Not to mention the bobble hat.

"Why?" I ask Hercules as a grin spreads across his face, "we could have spent that on food."

"Yes, but we spent it on a hat. Anyway, that whole outfit cost quite a lot, you know. Had to do a combined sponsor present there."

"Whatever," I sigh and grip my head, trying to suppress a headache. There, that's averted the immediate danger for now. There's a big _for now_ in there though. For now.


	45. Her Hands

**A/N: **You're going to hate me for the cliffhanger at the end of this chapter, but then again, you're going to hate me more in the chapters to come so I'm not worrying about your reaction to this at all. I know what's going to happen, and in this chapter the numbers get trimmed down to five, with promise for more deaths later. So don't worry. I didn't actually think I could fit it all into this chapter, but I did. So really don't worry. I just hope I can hit my aim of making this my most successful (and therefore most reviewed) story I've written. I'll probably get quite a few reviews extra for the last chapter, but it's still in the danger zone of whether I'll reach 367 reviews or not, and I'm actually quite sad that Shattered Hearts is coming to a close. But don't worry. I think you'll all be pretty surprised when you see what I leave it on for the last chapter, and yes, I am thinking about writing another one. That's all up to you of course, but there'll be more details and such in later chapters. For now I write, you read and possibly review, and then I write some more!

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><p>The next day I'm being shaken awake by a pair of rather clammy hands. Not again. Is it every morning someone's either waking me up or I oversleep? Maybe they have to wake me up to ensure I get up at all. Maybe without anyone's help I'd just subconsciously slip into a coma of some sorts, drifting out of this world forever. <em>Oh stop being stupid Kara,<em> my rather bitter subconscious in the form of Clara snaps at me. She's always moody in the mornings. Then again, she's always moody so the fact that it's the morning doesn't really change much. I open one eye and am surprised to see no-one's there, so I open the other. It was just my imagination then, that someone woke me up. It probably happened enough times and wanted to tail a rather vivid dream. Luckily for me I usually forget the vivid dreams, apart from when I was in the arena.

"What's the time?" I groan quietly to myself and stare blankly at the clock on the wall. So it's already quarter past nine. Well, this time is as good as any I suppose. I suddenly feel myself chuckling when I remember yesterday when the other tribute's clothes started to decompose. Zap told me their underwear would stay intact and thank goodness it did, that's all I'm saying. Once they saw that the clothes we sent Zen and Indi stayed intact a huge discussion broke out between the mentors of the remaining victors. Some sent some clothes out, but unfortunately for the remaining tributes some of them either didn't have the sponsor money to waste or just weren't kind enough. Anyway, they mused, there's only one male contender left in the whole arena; Zen. So he's the only one who's going to be really embarrassed.

With a groan that could awaken the dead I rise up and hurriedly shove on some clothes, not bothering to note that they're the ones the Capitol laid out for me, and stride into Cets as quickly as I can, not wanting to miss a second of the games, knowing that it might very well cost Zen and Indi their lives.

Lumina's there on her own. At first I'm both surprised and slightly outraged that Hercules would allow that, what with her being pregnant and all, then I remember how Hercules hasn't left Cets probably for a few days and decide that maybe I'll let him off. It's not like Lumina's got some fatal disease either, in fact she looks perfectly normal. If Hercules hadn't told me then I would be totally oblivious still to the fact that Lumina's actually pregnant.

The screens flash a multitude of colours and I have to squint to find Indi's screen among the other six. Yes, they're all there. I turn to Lumina, she's been rather quiet. She hasn't uttered a word since I came in. When I examine her closer I find that she's asleep. Asleep? What would have happened if Indi or Zen got in trouble? I don't think any of the competing mentors would have let others wake her up; it could have been the death of them! I'm about to hurriedly shake her awake when I remind myself of her condition and that I'm here now, so no harm's done. With a sigh I leave the room, keeping a foot in the door so it stays ajar and ushering Dizzy in with a hurried wave of my hand.

"Kara?" Dizzy asks.

When I think about it, I don't think Dizzy's ever not here. Does she never sleep? I remember her arena when it appeared like sleeping but she could move at a mere twig snapping into a frenzied fighting stance. No, it's just my imagination. Of course she sleeps, just she probably has similar shifts to me, that's all.

"Kara?" Dizzy repeats, trying to snap me out of my hazy thoughts.

"Yes?"

"You wanted me..." Dizzy phases off, seeing I'm looking at her weirdly. I desperately try to snap out of it and happily find I'm rather successful.

"Yes! Yes, anything happen overnight?" I ask quickly.

"No, not that I know of," Dizzy says.

"Okay," I smile and then hurry back into Cets, almost like a mole diving back into its hole.

I start watching the screen. Zen and Indi are laughing happily as if one of them just cracked a hilarious joke and fetching water from Zen's underground well that he found. Boudicca's slowly munching on something from her pack as she travels up slowly around the winding roads that constrict the mud hill like a slithering snake, going upwards. Always going upwards. It seems almost like the instinct I had to go up the mountain, sure that there would either be something or nothing at the top – either of which sounded perfectly fine to me. I was probably hoping for nothing, instead I got an awful lot of something up there at the top of the mountain, something that stings my heart even thinking about.

Misty, Sweet and Juniper all are wandering on their own now, Juniper and Sweet having probably split overnight. I don't know why Dizzy didn't tell me about that either, so Zen and Indi are the only alliance in this games then. I was in the only alliance too, until the very end. But then it just turned topsy-turvy.

I don't know how long I stare and stare at the screens, willing some action to come on and only getting a rather large bear try to savage Boudicca and swiftly leaving with a tail between its legs. I see no-one's targeting Juniper, Indi or Zen. I suppose it makes good television if they meet up though, so anything that happens to them, however subtle, is to drive them together. Eventually I get some real entertainment, though.

Sweet and Misty meet up. I don't know or really care how, they just do. On the muddy and rather rocky slopes of the mud mountain, they meet up. The moment they see each other a shout comes from Whitney a couple of doors around and Summer from district two on Wiress' muttered warning as they're both crowded around the refreshment cart. There's a moment as they both rush into each of their individual Cets and they link eyes. That's when I know that only one of the pair is going to get out of it alive.

Sweet and Misty, a pair I never imagined fighting it off. They both seem ruthless enough for me, and even one second of clashing steel never really came up on my radar, I just never thought it would happen. But it's happening alright.

Misty, with her two swords tucked into her belt, the one item of clothing aside from her underwear that she's wearing, against Sweet. They're both deadly, vicious murderers with an intent to kill each other, ready to fight to the death and they're standing in their underwear. The sight causes a slight chuckle to escape from my lips but I trap it. This shouldn't be funny. I just hope that they both manage to finish each other off, that's the best I can hope for. They're both heavy contenders in this game, whether I like it or not, so at least one of them should hopefully go down and I know that it will almost definitely be a close thing. Sweet whips out a dagger and a sword, one held in each hand, while Misty brandishes her two swords. For a moment there's silence as the two girls stare at each other, sizing the other up, and then they strike.

Sweet moves first and she does move fast, in almost a blink of an eye the knife she had clutched in her left hand, her weak hand mind you, is flying straight at Misty. But in that time Misty raises one of her swords and slashes at the dagger, causing it to clash metal against metal in a grating sound and collapse onto the floor. Then it's Misty's turn to attack. With a rather rabid yell she runs, screaming, towards a startled Sweet, still getting over the deflection of her last attack. Hastily she jams her sword up and manages to block Misty's oncoming slaughter. As soon as the tips of their swords touch Misty jerks away before Sweet can lock swords with her. The exhaustion on the fight already must be getting to sweet because she bends down to the ground momentarily as if to get her bearings. Misty pulls out the second sword of her belt so now she's using two swords, one in both hands, trying to take advantage of Sweet's momentary weakness. In the short amount of time it takes Misty to do that, however, Sweet is suddenly manically charging at Misty, a rabid yell shrieking around the arena. I don't think anyone would approach this area in their right mind, it sounds like a pack of mutts is attacking her, not Sweet being the one who's attacking the mutt, or rather, Misty.

Startled, Misty tries to jump out of the way, but it's too late. Sweet's sword gashes into Misty's left side of her stomach and brings the first blood of the match while Sweet's other hand locks onto Misty's left to stop her doing the same, squeezing it until one of Misty's swords clanks onto the ground in defeat. But the stinging pain doesn't stop Misty and she brings her right hand, the one with the other sword still in it, crashing down onto Sweet's back while she still clutches her sword in Misty's stomach.

There was no way she could miss. With a horrendous crunch and a slash of sword cutting through flesh Sweet collapses on the ground, a grin slathered across her face. Misty stares at her, bewildered for a moment, until Sweet holds up her right hand, the one that was supposedly holding a sword, and the dagger she threw originally is clutched in it, tainted with Misty's blood. There's a pause when Misty looks down to her stomach and sees blood swirling around in the gap left, and touches it confirming her suspicions. There are two wounds there instead of one. And while there's a shallow wound where the sword grated her on its way past, there's also another cut where Sweet burrowed her dagger right into Misty's stomach. Sneaky yet deadly, Sweet must have retrieved that dagger when she bent down, miming dizziness.

And with the sound of Sweet's cannon fire Misty's legs buckle and she collapses onto her knees, blood covering her hands. The screen fizzles slightly and now five spots take over the screen, soon to be four if something isn't done about it. But a silver parachute flutters down to Misty and I'm shocked to see a tub of something or other which definitely isn't herbal tea, no, this strange mix of bound leaves and a pale cream alongside it looks like medicine – Capitol medicine at that. It must have taken the last of Misty's sponsors and probably a few I.O.U's as well, but somehow Whitney did it and Misty's kneeling on the ground by Sweet's body, hands drenched in her own blood but still able to clutch onto a pot of medicine as she hurriedly dabs it onto herself, applying it to her own almost fatal wound.

I'm just getting used to the startling scene unfolding in front of me when I feel a hand tapping me on the shoulder and I see Lumina pointing anxiously at the main screen. It's changed now, and instead of Misty hurriedly reviving herself or a reply of the previous battle, Indi and Zen are backed into a small cave and there's a sword pointed right at them, Zen's rope along with all of the weapons and supplies, held gleefully in the hands of their attacker and future murderer. Her hands. Juniper Hurling.


	46. donec eras

**A/N: **As a special halloween special (and to note that it's 143 days until the hunger games movie comes out - yes, I have been counting down since 199) I have released this chapter, which will surely bring tears to your eyes, or at least a sniffle or two. Hopefully. Otherwise you're a zombie, deal with it. You can probably tell by the title what's going to happen in this chapter, but who cares? A lot of things are mentioned here that link into "My Mentor's Better Than Yours", a short one-shot about Zen and Juniper having a bit of a verbal scrap in training, and I wrote the beginning half of this chapter while consulting this. I wrote the second half of the chapter a few weeks ago, however, so really this took me barely any time at all to write - great because I just got back from a friend's house for haloween and am definitely ready to flop back into my cosy bed! Only 3 more chapters to go after this... P.S. - Lollipop Dreams you scoundrel! I thought I could just about scrape by and make this my most successful fanfic yet until you wnet and reviewed Kill Or Be Killed LOADS, jacking up the review amount to 372... you're all going to have to review a lot more now and i might now meet my aim! ;'( On the good side, thanks for reviewing! If only you did it to this instead... =D

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><p>"Well, well, well, if it isn't my two favourite tributes, Indigo Dream and Zen Strike. You'll excuse me if I don't cheer you on," Juniper snarls, playing with the air in front of her by means of her sword, flicking it about so different contorted representations of shapes rise from mere air, yet shapes just of her imagination and that of anyone who's watching, transfixed to the screen in front of them.<p>

"What do you want with us?" Zen growls, causing a gleeful smile to creep up onto Juniper's face.

"What do you think? To fulfil our agreement," hisses Juniper.

"Agreement?" whispers Indi into Zen's ear hurriedly.

"Oh yes," sneers Juniper at the look on Zen's face as it slowly dawns on him, "_that _agreement."

"Do you know what they're talking about?" I ask Lumina sitting dumbfounded on her chair.

"No, sorry. Kara, I fell asleep-"

"Don't worry about that now," I say, suppressing my need to scream 'yes you did you lazy so-and-so!' and trying to somehow put up and encouraging smile.

"Zen- what agreement?" Indi whispers as Zen's face gets paler and paler.

"There was this time in training-" Zen stutters, not having to put on the act for once.

"I wouldn't exactly call what you were doing training," sneers Juniper.

"- anyway," cuts in Zen, "we got into a bit of an argument..."

"You were fantasising ways to kill me," sighs Juniper, "what was that about you hanging me upside-down until the blood rushed to my head?"

"Well you said you'd break every bone in my body and then toss me into a lake!" Zen snaps defensively.

"Dislocate actually," sniggers Juniper, "anyway, it all came down to one thing, didn't it though Zen?"

"Oh yeah," Zen says, a small grin coming onto his face.

"My mentor's better than yours," the pair simultaneously say, glaring into each other's eyes.

"Well," Zen breaks off the eye locking competition to a contented chuckle from Juniper, "since we both seemed to disagree we decided to leave it to the games to decide our fates."

"Couldn't have pictured it better myself," sighs Juniper, placing one of her hands on her heart as if in satisfaction.

"You haven't won yet," Zen says daringly.

"Who's got the sword pointed at their throat?" snaps Juniper.

"Who's standing in their underwear?" retorts Zen, causing Juniper to blush slightly as she shuffles around in the basic grey undergarments barely covering her.

"Now I know what it's like for your mentor, this is exactly like what she wears!"

"Don't bring Kara into this..." growls Zen and I find myself blushing even though I should be screaming.

"You got any last words? For you or your so-called mentor?" the words are spit out of Juniper's mouth like venom from a viper, a deadly look controlling her face as she swivels away from Zen, a lost cause, and onto Indi.

Indi's face pales slightly but the look of defiance stands still proud in her features, the same look that she held when she was reaped. "Zen – you'll know when to run, and when that chance presents itself you take it, okay? Win for me and win for Kara. And for Lumina and for Hercules and for every single tribute out there that's been slaughtered in these games so you can win. For them. And by not doing so it would be an insult to them, to their sacrifice. Every single young girl and boy that lost their life here would be in vain if you didn't win Zen, if you didn't win then fate would have been crossed and that is never a good thing – believe me. You've got to win, even if I don't and that's something I accept now, now that my path is clear to me. The path is obvious, as is what I must do. So you run Zen, you run. So run for me Zen, run for me and you and every single tribute out there; for past or for present. You run and by doing so you win."

Indi's face turns with a set stony determination towards Juniper's sneering face, cold as a brisk and bitter winter's day.

"How touching, what a shame you didn't have something to say to your darling mentor," Juniper coos, "never mind, I'll sort her out once I get out of this godforsaken place."

"Oh no," Indi says, an unnatural smile spreading across her face, "you'll never get out of here, nor will I. Neither of us will get out of this place alive."

"Whatever," Juniper sighs with a roll of her eyes, then swishing the sword upwards in front of her face, seemingly splitting it in two as the two halves of her face both share the same wallowing sadness hidden behind her gleaming eyes. "Goodbye, Indigo Dream."

"Oh no, not goodbye," Indi smiles in a way which seems to all of a sudden remind me of Dizzy in one of her possessed and exceedingly scary moments. Then, without warning, she whips out Orion's knife from her boot that she hid their earlier on Isis' instructions, ignoring the fact that she's backed into a wall, holding the shard of hope up in front of her, Zen staring dumbfounded.

"What then?" scoffs Juniper, a disbelieving look smothering her face as the puny almost needle of a knife doesn't threaten her in the slightest. Yet she still shifts her sword around so it points at Indi, as if afraid she can do something with the tiny knife clutched in her hands in pure defiance.

"Not goodbye," Indi mutters again and then dashes straight at Juniper, teeth bared in a defying grimace as she charges at Juniper with her tiny yet sharp knife, slamming herself into Juniper's outstretched sword. Zen stares gormlessly at the scene; his mouth aghast as Indi impales herself on Juniper's outstretched sword and musters enough strength and pure willpower to bury her own pinprick of a dagger straight into Juniper's heart. Tears well in both of the young girl's eyes and their teeth grit as they stand there frozen, glowering into each other's shallow eyes as if the mere glare they link could burrow into the opposition's soul and force them to drop dead before themselves as they helplessly clutch onto the very fibres of life itself.

I can almost see the frantic thoughts rushing around Zen's head as he stumbles towards Indi and then stops himself, seeing that there's nothing he can do for her now. Then the echo ricochets around my head as well, of what Indi said. _Zen- you'll know when to run, and when that chance presents itself you take it._

The same thought seems to be stirring in Zen's eyes as, after a miniscule pause of indecision, he frantically scampers off into the distance like a terrified rabbit, scrambling away from the scene in desperation. There's nothing he can do for her now anyway, staying would have just put him in even more danger and broken the honour of the last action of Indi's will – her final struggle.

"No, not goodbye," Indi mutters, tears of happiness and a sort of morphed contentment rolling down her cheeks as both she and Juniper drift off, knowing that they'll never return to the land of the living. "Not goodbye at all Juniper, it's donec eras – until tomorrow."


	47. Blank Eyes

**A/N: **I wrote this chapter, found out it was the size of two chapters and jiggled my chapter plan around a bit so now the final two have been morphed into one, but that's fine. Basically that menas that I have the next one, chapter 48 written and I wrote the epilogue, chapter 50, ages ago... so all I have to do now is write chapter 49 and I've finished! Yes, there should be a third in the series. If you want. This is a song chapter, a few of you might recognise the song. Virtual points of merit to those who know what the song's from - yes, I wrote it as I do all my songs, but this one has been used before and is an "epic tie-in", as I think someone described it when I suggested the idea. Anyways, I hope you enjoy what's left of Shattered Hearts, and since I'm only 20 reviews off the mark, I'm anxious to see how this all goes and whether I'll reach my target or not. Hopefully I should, though it'll be a close thing. Thanks all, and enjoy!

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><p>The two shots of cannon fire crash through Zen's ears as he pants helplessly while running desperately away from the scene as Indi instructed yet also just to get away from it all. I know the rattling pain, the blood drumming in his ears, the stiffened joints. Yes, that's the pain I feel right now.<p>

I stand up and exit the room. A buzzing sound seems to be filling my ears but I ignore it and continue walking, barely noticing as I push open the door and move into Cets. I think I can hear Lumina and even Hercules trying to call to me, but they just seem like distant humming in the back of my head, insignificant and even slightly annoying. I don't even pass a thought to when Hercules got here; just close my eyes like Dizzy would do and walk straight out into the centre of Cets. The silence that meets me is too morbid, but I grind my teeth and ignore it. I vaguely sense someone murmuring at me, or it might be shouting. I think I'm too far gone for that. I step forward, treading grimly on the ground, and the suddenly open my mouth and start to sing, sing to block out the din of all that surrounds me, sing because singing is what I must do now, because singing is all that soothes the emptiness in my heart. I don't even know what I'm singing until the words tumble out of my mouth:

_Once upon a time and a beautiful place,_

_When grass grew in patches of flowers and grace,_

_And bumblebees hummed as the twittering birds,_

_Sang forth and swallowed pink thriving worms,_

_When peace was no problem and war was a lie,_

_Where everyone sang and no-one cried,_

_That time was so beautiful and at my heart,_

_That time was perfection, yet nothing could last,_

_Along came the whispers, so malicious and cold,_

_That started a war that would be a hundred years old,_

_The tranquillity vanished alongside the peace,_

_The love disintegrated and the whole breath ceased,_

_As songbirds turned to vultures and rabbits to hares,_

_Where moles ducked down under and food became scarce,_

_Springtime was winter that lasted an age,_

_All the creatures could feel was pure rage,_

_Then along came a hero who no-one could place,_

_A girl or a boy at anyone's age,_

_Just another person, another scene,_

_Yet they were someone who stopped the screams,_

_Then everyone loved and everyone cared,_

_No longer did they have to hide and be all scared,_

_My heart reached out and touched you all,_

_For I am your hero and evil's fall,_

_For I am your hero and evil's fall._

Yes, I remember this clearly now. This was a song from when I was younger, my mother used to sing it to me. She claimed she got it from a friend of hers, a relation of mine, I think. Maybe it was her cousin, I don't know. Really it should be Indi, not I, that sings this song, which conveys this tale of hatred and deceit, not to mention the hunger games somehow intertwined between the lines of this song.

Without another word, and with all of the other mentors gaping at me, I silently enter the room of district eight Control and slam the door behind me, almost breaking the spell I've been under. Both Lumina and Hercules look up to me from their chairs, glassy eyed.

"That was... beautiful," Lumina eventually mutters and I smile slightly, more like a twitch of the mouth than a smile, but at least it's something.

"I guess I just answered Caesar Flickerman's question," I mumble, sinking into the remaining chair and turning towards the screens.

"What question, Kara?" Hercules asks me gently.

"Whether I'd choose between Zen and Indi- now it looks like the dilemma is over," I say hoarsely. I desperately want to break out into tears, like I know a good mentor should, an attached mentor should. I note silver orbs trickling down Lumina's cheeks, and even Hercules' eyes look suspiciously red. But mine? No matter how much I want to, as a sign of respect and love and friendship, I can't. The tears just won't force themselves from my eyes, so my cheeks remain bone dry and my heart disturbingly hollow. Is it because of all the death I've faced that now I'm incapable of shedding tears? Have I really lost so much that now, no matter how much pain may sting, it only feels like numb antiseptic? Have I really become that heartless?

When I glance to the screen I'm shocked to see Zen and Boudicca warily facing each other, blood dripping from a wound on Boudicca's calf. Maybe that bear she fought off as if it was nothing did leave a mark unlike I thought.

"What's happening?" I ask suddenly, snapping out of my depression and trying to take advantage of this mask that I've situated on my face, deciding it will lead Zen to victory. Then it's time for emotions. Only then.

"While you were out Boudicca followed her ears, she evidently heard something of what just passed between Zen and the others and came to investigate, even if that meant running all the way back down the muddy slopes she had just spent all day to climb," Hercules states calmly.

I turn once again to the screen and, without a single word exchanged between him and her, Boudicca's able to work out what happened by the lack of Indi and the hollow look in Zen's eyes that all of us in this room share with him. Before Zen can open his mouth to explain Boudicca grips his hand firmly and starts steering him up the muddy slope, back where she just ran to. While the gesture may be interpreted in another, perhaps more romantic way, I can see through that into what it really is, it is a sign of friendship. She could have hacked him down right then and there and met no resistance whatsoever because Zen's quite simply lost the will to fight. This is exactly the opposite of how I reacted when Vivian died and what happened to him when Angel died. That was a mad, boiling anger that would consume your whole body and burn all over you like a forest fire. This is something a lot different, a lot deeper. This goes way further than a mere flesh wound could go. It's the exact same feeling I had when I killed Dral – a sort of emptiness like part of myself had been taken away, and like myself I can see no tears in Zen's eyes. Maybe he and I are in a closer condition than I originally thought, maybe he and I are actually a lot more a alike as well, maybe we're more identical than Orion and Isis, the twins. Not outwardly, by appearances, but inwardly. As in the way we think, feel and react. As in the way we hate the Capitol with a boiling passion, so hard that it phases out the drilling pain of Indi's death into a numb blankness, a sheet of pure nothing as two strong emotions tear through us.

I don't know how long Boudicca and Zen walk, or limp in Boudicca's case. The ground is a muddy, never-ending spiral and the Cornucopia never seems to get any closer. They trudge onwards in the brisk cold, a few meaningless words passes between them, starting off a conversation but leaving it adrift midway like Wiress does. Midnight must have almost struck when I note the faces in the sky. Juniper and Indi look down at the pair, the mug shots of their faces barely representing what they were really like. Briefly Misty mutters something about being in the final three, the screen fizzling to her flipping in her sleep and back again to Zen and Boudicca.

Then an eerie chiming starts. I don't know what it is, probably something that the Gamemaker's have devised, but at number one the wind suddenly stops, as if having just been snatched out of the air somehow. On the second strike a quiet humming sound tickles the back of my ears and then when three and four strike it has raised to a sort of whistling. I would have been fooled it was the wind if I wasn't looking out for it but I can now sense that this is almost definitely something different, something a lot more deadly. The fifth chime hits the arena and Zen and Boudicca slowly turn to face each other, a look of paralysed fear growing on their faces.

Chimes ring on and on and on. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven... twelve. And on the twelfth strike they strike.


	48. Zen Strike: Unknown

**A/N: **So yep, I would have updated this earlier but I was away for the weekend, about ten minutes before a huge 36 car pile up or something which has been smothered all over the news. Aside from feeling lucky that I didn't die like the poor seven people there, I realised I probably would if I didn't update this as soon as I got home in fear of you sending me hate PMs after that killer cliffhanger! I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's really nearing the end now. Chapter 48 of Shattered Hearts - _Zen Strike - Unknown_. Which happens to be a quote, as you will find out later on. This is quick, and yes, I put Indi twice by accident. I have been doing this too many times before, but caught it before updating. But now I've remedied it. Thanks to the person who pointed that out.

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><p>Almost a sea of black insects, scraping their scythes of hands together maliciously and hissing as the wind would do, pour towards Boudicca and Zen. A startled look swamps their expressions and after a hurried yell they sprint away from them, knowing they're far from good. Beady eyes and legs which scuttle faster than I think any normal insect could have ever before, before the Capitol enhanced them that is. And I'm pretty sure that speed is not the only thing they've enhanced.<p>

Even at their fastest, the insects still gain on Zen and Boudicca as they slide up the muddy slope, the icy cold stinging on their flesh knowing much worse will come if they wait around. But I know it's only a matter of time before the insects get to them. Boudicca is still in her underwear, but now I barely notice it since she is slathered head-to-toe in mud, clumps of it clinging to her body, relieved to be removed from the slippery slope. I know they're running but maybe they couldn't be all that bad and those grotesque bloated black bodies, so inhuman, could shield something less parasitical, like friendly supersonic caterpillars. In desperation Zen wrenches off his bobble hat and chucks it at the swarm of insects behind him. There's a moment of silence when they all clump around it, shielding it from view, and then they scuttle forward, leaving a large shredded bobble and a name tag with a chunk taken out of it, the carcass left of the hideous hat Hercules sent Zen. So much for them being friendly supersonic caterpillars.

Before I know it Boudicca's tugging at Zen's arm as if begging him to stop. Reluctantly he slows down, keeping an eye on the fast approaching insects advancing on them, and tugs at the panting body of Boudicca, shaking like a leaf.

"Come on, we've got to keep moving," he pleads, his sharp green eyes still full of desperation. Zen then just stares at her gormlessly, no doubt seeing a repetition of exactly what happened to Indi right before his very own eyes, yet again powerless to stop the events playing before him.

"Zen – don't worry about me, I was never meant to win," Boudicca sighs, lifting her head up to his so their eyes link together in one final lock of desperation.

The talons of the swarm scuttle towards them; Boudicca's bloodied leg glistening in the moonlight. "They're after blood Zen, my blood. You've known that for quite some time. I can tell it," she sighs while still frozen, "I can never win, but if I fall back you might have a chance..."

"No!" screams Zen suddenly, fury beating in his face, "no! No, I won't allow it!"

"Whether you 'allow' it or not, it's going to happen. I wish you wouldn't be so stubborn," sighs Boudicca, he face still even with Zen's as if challenging him to defy her. "Now go, or you'll get caught up in the swarm."

The frantic clicking of the beetles scurry towards the pair, eyes locked in combat as their bodies stay still, motionless. Yet still the beetles advance.

"You don't want Indi's sacrifice to be for nothing, do you?" Boudicca asks eventually and by doing so breaks the tense silence carefully constructed between them, clearly playing the trump card on the whole situation.

"No, but-"

"Then run Zen; run and don't look back whatever you hear. It won't be a pretty sight if you do."

The command in Boudicca's voice is painfully strong and Zen slowly starts to turn away, and then after yet another moment's decision, knowing that if he stays with her they'll both die, he runs on without even looking back. Yet her words echo around his brain as his tears flicker across his cheeks in the memory of both Indi and Boudicca. Finally he can cry.

"Boudicca Kisasi," Boudicca sighs as she slowly lets her feet work backwards, "sister to an elder and a younger brother. She spent her entire life governed by her own parents against her will, what they said went. Her parents arranged a marriage for her and didn't break it until her until her eighteenth reaping day. What a mistake, if only they had waited one day later then their dreams of handing her off to some influential family for money might have very well turned out all right. For them that is. But they didn't wait another day and there was only one clear way out for her. Either marry a total stranger and throw away her old life, becoming one to bend to her parent's will or volunteer for the hunger games and clash against all her morals, battling to survive. But she was never one to submit to pressure, never one to cave in. So she ran and did what was both cowardly and brave. She ran from one danger and marched into the other from of the very same thing she ran from, knowing that if she was to win, however remote the idea sounded at the time, she would carve a better life for herself and be able to stand on her own two feet. Of course she could never win, and now I know that."

The beetles suddenly reach her and the swarm of black clicking insects scurry around her and flood over her as if dipping her in hot tar, the swarm of black submerging her. Yet she doesn't scream or even startle out a few words of meaningless gibberish. Instead she just looks straight at the camera and Zen's faint figure melting in the distance all at the time and speaks with a hollowing voice just before the beetles rush over her mouth, blocking it up and sending her whole body into spasms as she writhes on the floor in pain with the sound of her cannon echoing around her. "Zen Strike – unknown."

And that's when I know why the other victors decided to name her as the face of the rebellion.


	49. Yesterday's News

**A/N: **Basically there's only going to be an epilogue after this and then Shattered Hearts is finished. But a next book will take its place, the name of which I shall keep to myself until the next chapter (yes, I do know). Thanks for everyone who has helped, with this chapter we should hopefully exceed the target for making this my most successful fanfic to date... so yay! It's not over yet, so don't forget to review! =D

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><p>I know it's bad, with it being the final two and all, but I find myself falling asleep in Cets. It's not like Zen's going anywhere anytime soon. Misty's lying in a small pool of her own blood at the top of the hill, panting desperately and in a deep fever, just able to cover up the wound with the medicine she got from her remaining sponsors. It certainly has kept her alive to this point, but if she survives this fever or not without an ally to nurse her is just plain old luck, the darkest of your enemies and the most untrustworthy of your allies in the hunger games. Fortunately for me, luck seemed to be on my side in my hunger games. I just wonder if it's with Zen or not. I certainly hope so.<p>

I may have drifted off slightly, but so did Zen and Misty, so when Alder's chestnut brown eyes stare worriedly at me, shaking me gently awake, I jump up immediately. Alder jerks back from me, as if he had just been caught doing something he shouldn't have done. I'm about to say a brief 'hi', when I remember that he won't be able to reply so I catch my words in my mouth and just smile at him. He smiles back, points at the screen and then backs out of the room before I can say anything to him. My eyes swivel around to the screen and instead of the expected scene with Zen sleeping in a small patch of shrubs I find him climbing up the mud slope, a determined look of grit moulded on his face.

"What's happening?" I say out loud and am shocked to hear the reluctant grunt of Johanna Mason's voice in reply.

"Search me," she huffs, "he just got up and started walking uphill, murmuring something about following where that Boudicca girl was going."

"Oh," is all I can muster to say and look blankly at Zen's determined face, driving his body onwards up that muddy slope and towards the glinting Cornucopia looming above him, shielding Misty from the night which she must have just endured. It seems Sweet's dagger must have hit something serious, though Misty's still gripping onto night.

There's a while of me just staring at the screens and at Zen's face in particular, waiting for something to happen. It doesn't seem like I have to wait for long. Alder seems to have woken me up about ten, since when I finally glance up at the clock it's around midday and Zen's nearing the Cornucopia, with Misty lying under its shade.

I find myself holding my breath in as Zen only slightly cautiously trudges up by the great golden cone, the worst boiling in my stomach. But Misty can't even stand and is only armed with one sword and a pot of wound healing cream, what exactly could she do to Zen?

"Who is it?" the hoarse voice croaks throughout the arena and I see Zen's face flush a variant of colours as he no doubt notices that his opponent is wounded, maybe fatally.

"Who is it?" the voice repeats and Zen cocks his head slightly to the side, as if thinking about it for a moment. Eventually he opens his mouth and speaks with a sigh.

"Zen- Zen Strike, district eight. Who- I mean, declare yourself."

A slight laugh comes from in the shadows of the Cornucopia. "Knowing who I am won't make any difference to the outcome; I think it's fairly obvious at the moment. To fall at such a late hurdle as well, the final hurdle... well that is something to think about, isn't it?"

"Declare yourself," Zen growls, his eyes squinting in the darkness to see who is the owner of Misty's voice.

"Fine," a sigh says, "If you must know Zen then I might as well tell you. It's Boudicca. Boudicca Kisasi."

There's a pause as the realisation of what the opponent just said sinks into Zen's face, softening like putty until it finally jolts back into a firm frame. "You lie," he growls, "Boudicca died before my very eyes, now who are you?"

"Can't blame me for trying," sighs the voice reluctantly, "I know it's just me, you, and the girl left. I never would have thought that there would have been an alliance so late in the games, it's too risky. I suppose you thought that too, didn't you?"

Misty's message is clear, that Zen killed Boudicca.

"No," Zen says simply. "No, I didn't kill her Misty- I'm assuming it's you from the look of it. It was some mutts that got here, beetle-like creatures. They were going after both of us and Boudicca..." his voice fades away.

"And you ran off like the coward you are? How many allies have you ran away from, just let sink to the ground before you then? I can tell you my answer simply Zen- none. So what about you then, how many of your supposed _friends_ have died before you and you didn't save them when you could? How many Zen?"

There's a pause and the camera zooms into Zen's face, struggling to keep hold of his emotions until eventually he speaks, his look a glare.

"Three."

"And how do you feel about it? How do you honestly feel? What emotion is pouring through your veins?" Misty prompts; a smile detectable in her voice. Zen's face stays stony and set still.

"Hate."

"Oh yes Zen," Misty says gleefully, "hate. How I love that word. Oh, it sounds so delicious to tumble out of someone else's mouth instead of mine, Zen. Tell you what, I'll make this simple. The girl from district seven, the pale skinned and fair haired one, the innocent one. The one that wouldn't fight, refused to fight even. She claimed she was a pacifist. You remember her don't you Zen? In training you shared the trap making station, right? I thought you two were getting on well as well, you remember her?"

"I do." Zen says gruffly, his voice starting to crack slightly.

"Well I killed her Zen, I hacked her into tiny pieces on-camera but she still wouldn't fight. Interesting. Turned out she really _was_ a pacifist. So you see that Zen? That feeling pouring through your veins, that burning emotion? That's hate Zen, that's hate. That's how it feels. Don't you just _love_ it?"

"I've had enough, you're delirious, evidently delusional," Zen says and steps forward into the shadow of the Cornucopia.

"You couldn't kill me Zen, no way!" Misty chuckles in a sing-song voice, "you'd never be able to do it. Not a defenceless dying girl." Zen's face stays staring at her. "You couldn't do it if it _did_ save your life, not even me. You just don't have the heart of a murderer. You're a bit like a rabbit, a coward. You flee from any tricky situation, such as killing your enemies or saving your allies. I know that's what you feel deep inside you, that's just how you are Zen. I know it because I know _you_ Zen, I know you."

Then suddenly Zen's hand, clutching Misty's sword, hurriedly slides its way across her throat, silencing her forever.

"I'm afraid you know me less than you give yourself credit for," Zen says, his voice slightly hoarse, and before I know it they're announcing the winner of the seventy-first hunger games – Zen Strike.

Waiting is painful, thinking about what I'm waiting for even more so. Zen just won his hunger games, right. But he just won his hunger games in a totally brutal and un-Zen-like fashion that I've ever seen. He slit a dying girl's throat. Sure, that was a two days ago, but that doesn't mean he didn't do it. It also doesn't mean it isn't still fresh in his memory. That finale was almost as haunting as Dizzy's – almost. The next day Debbie's hairdo headlines had been shoved back a page and the front of all the newspapers were littered with _I'm afraid you know me less than you give yourself credit for_ slogans, shoved everywhere. I've seen at least five fan-posters that various members of the Capitol have slung over their houses and I even saw a mini key ring which depicted a coil of rope with those words curling around it. Zen merchandise? It makes me wonder what was mine, I was sure to have some. Maybe the last words of my hunger games, that I uttered as I was pulled up to the hovercraft – _I never break my promises_.

Even though I think it's brutal and totally barbaric I buy a "I love you Zen" teddy bear dressed in the arena clothes for that year and one of those cool - I mean totally despicable – key rings. Something of a memoir, I guess.

But now I'm going to be let in to see Zen in that horribly white room he's been imprisoned in for the last two days. I vividly remember my time there; in fact thinking about it is too grim to bear really.

However, before I can think about it the door swings open and a doctor clad in white (what else?) starts to leave. Without mentioning anything I barge past him hurriedly and launch myself into the room to face a rather malnourished Zen with a scrawny look about him. But he's still got his six-pack, so all's fine.

"-Kara?" he asks me and I stand awkwardly by the door for a moment, remembering how it must look, what with me barging in like that, especially since I decided to launch myself on the end of his bed as well.

"Err... yeah. Sorry about that, just wanted to see that and all, you know. So, err... how are you doing?"

"Kara," Zen says, his voice getting serious and I find myself shifting on his bed that I bounded on earlier rather uncomfortably.

"Zen?" I ask. There's yet another awkward moment as we stare at each other for a moment and then laughs slightly.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing that can't wait. So... how's things over here?"

"You know, the usual. 'I love Zen' t-shirts are now on sale in the Capitol," I smile.

"Have you got one?" Zen asks, suddenly deadly serious.

"Err... no, but I _do_ have this amazing and totally fantastic teddy bear with a 'I love Zen' t-shirt on it and a 'I'm afraid you know me less than you give yourself credit for' rope key ring. Did you know that the night after your trick with that rope, prices for the stuff rocketed in the shops?"

"No I didn't," smiles Zen.

"Well, that's just what I needed at the end of a long day, you know. Anyway, I better go – Zap wants to give you a makeover for some reason, apparently you've got a doctor's physical soon and to stop them giving you plastic surgery or something he's going to try and make you look a little bit healthier, so hang on in there, okay?"

"Sure thing," says Zen and then I find myself wandering from the room, clasping my hands together suddenly and rubbing them as if to say 'well, what do I do next?'. Before leaving to go and do something, anything, I take a glance at the headlines of the new newspaper edition, and find myself staring at the face of a rather demented looking fish which apparently turned up on the plate of a poor Capitol citizen after they'd ordered mullet at a restaurant, and apparently _even then_ the restaurant refused to give them a refund or even replace it. I can't help but chuckle. It seems like the hunger games are already yesterday's news. Well, until next year I guess.


	50. Epilogue, AN and Links

**A/N: **Hello all. Snev speaking. Just a quick word. I got the most reviews! Whoop! I know that having loads of reviews doesn't really matter and all, but I guess I just enjoy getting them. Special thanks to NinaBlossom for being the 373rd reviewer, breaking the record for my most reviewed story! Just a mile of self achievement, that's all. Now, I promised at the beginning if you reviewed every chapter of this I'd give you a special shout-out here. I know a few of you haven't actually read the most recent chapters, so I'm not going to count those and just yell out to a few people who kept me going all this while by reviewing all of the chapters, not including the most recent ones and obviously not including this. So thank you to the following:

...

*awkward turtle*

...

So actually no-one reviewed every chapter of this... but hey, that's an aim for the next book/story/torture, right? See if anyone reviews every chapter. Before you ask – look at chapter 11. Only 3 people reviewed it and I know for certain that they don't review anything else. Sorry Arcticmist, you were close. You know, if I was reading this I'd be a name on that list. Ah well, not like any of you care. I'll announce more after the break of the... _Epilogue_!

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><p><em><span>Epilogue<span>_

_I wake up to hear the agonising wails of a baby. A baby? A baby! I leap out of bed as fast as I can, barely bothering to set back the ruffled covers on my bed as I launch myself down the stairs, frantically thinking of what I'm going to say to Hercules, and Lumina while I'm at it. I can't believe it; the doctor said it would come any day soon, but now? Already? I'm not prepared, I'm not ready at all, especially since I'm his or her protector._

_My hurried body yanks its way out of my house in a flurry, my father probably still in bed at this time in the early morning, orange steaks slashing the lightening sky. As I dash out of the house I glance at the houses to my left and right. To the left is Zen's new house, he's actually settled in nicely. He never told me where he lived before, but I'm assuming it wasn't exactly very nice, and to the right is where Hercules used to live. I say used to, because his mother only resides there now, he's moved in with Lumina, and now their household has amounted to three, just this very morning._

_I scurry out of the house, the fresh morning air stuck on my tongue, and the few spikes of grass I'm able to see which are so rare in my district are swimming in glistening silver orbs of dewdrops, sweet and circular. I race to the opposite house, running across the dying plants that the late winter provides, anxiously rubbing my hands together, and not just to warm them against the bitter air. With a brisk tap onto Hercules and Lumina's door, only to find it unresponsive, I decide to knock a bit louder. In the end Hercules comes down groggily, murmuring something about me almost breaking the door down._

"_Where is it? Is it a boy or a girl?" I gabble hurriedly, trying to push Hercules aside to let me in, prodding his bicep while doing so, but he leans against the door, sleepy eyes and confused, almost refusing to let me in through his bulk blocking up the doorway. And I can't argue with all of that muscle, can I? My face flushes when I realise he's only in his nightclothes, and he has trundled downstairs barefoot just to answer the door._

"_What are you talking about?" Hercules sighs, rubbish his bicep where I just poked him, and staring at me oddly like I am delusional or something._

"_The baby; the baby! Have you thought up a name for it yet?"_

"_You woke me up at goodness knows what hour in the morning, where the sun has barely peaked, in the bitterest of times, just to ask me that?" Hercules asks me in disbelief._

"_Why wouldn't I? I'm Lumina's best friend, aren't I?" I say, examining Hercules' dumbfounded face._

"_Well, you could have asked us after the baby's actually been born, you know, might have been customary; and not at this time in the morning!" Hercules snaps at me, evidently cranky._

"_What do you mean 'after the baby's been born'?" I ask._

"_I mean 'after the baby's been born'," scoffs Hercules, "you do know it's not due until a couple more days, right?"_

"_Yes, but..." I stammer anxiously, trying to wipe off the look of disbelief on Hercules' face, "I heard crying, a baby's cries!"_

_Hercules is just about to start speaking when I hear the wail again, but this time it's not coming from this house, but the empty and unoccupied one next to it._

"_What's that?" I question, perking up my ears as the baby's wail cries out again._

"_Listen Kara, no offence, but I couldn't care less about your delusions at this time in the morning. Now if you'll excuse me, I was planning on having a lie in," huffs Hercules and rather rudely slams the door in my face, causing me to frown at the sharp and crisp morning's air, before the wail breaks out again and I decide to go and investigate as curiosity gets the better of me._

_I slowly stride to the empty house next to Hercules and Lumina's and open the door; or rather, I try to, since the door is jammed shut. After a while of constant rattling and manic attempts at opening it, I decide that this house is, in fact, locked. But why; why is it locked?_

_I manically thump at the door, and even decide to knock on the metallic knocker on the front of the door that's conveniently there, to try and get in. Not like anyone will reply, but still... yet suddenly something moves in the house, I hear something stirring, and through the glimpse of blurred glass I see a dark figure slowly approaching the door. I suddenly feel my chest tighten in anticipation, which is stupid really, since I'm the one who actually has the more right to be here and the higher status, and then the door creaks open._

_In front of me stands a woman in about her late thirties, straggly brown hair tied back in a ponytail to get kept out of her pinkish and flustered face, a serious and slightly worried expression showing and a quite young looking baby cradled in her arms, her shushing it as it screams._

"_Who – who are you?" I gulp in surprise as I take it all in, and glimpse what looks like a pre-made house behind her, cluttered as if she had been occupying it for a while now. But she hasn't – there's been no-one there ever since I can remember. I don't think anyone's ever lived in this house at all; actually, since Oswald Bourne and May Flutter lived on the other side of the street of Victor's Village._

"_Kara, hun, you alright?" the woman asks, clearly concerned. How does she know my name? Wait, everyone knows my name, but still..._

"_Who are you?" I repeat again, but louder and firmer this time, and more shock brimming over me than before._

"_Are you sure you're alright hun, need to sit down, have a hot cup of cocoa?" the woman asks, rocking the baby gently in her arms as the look of concern spreads over her face._

"_I asked you a question!" I snap at her, taking on the tone I would use when speaking in anger to all of those people who used to call themselves my friends._

"_Kara – you know me," the woman says, desperately now. I examine her face again; one of pure worry and concern towards me, yet no recognition strikes me at all._

"_Where from?" I gulp._

"_Where from? Where from? Come on hun, I live here! There's me, you, Lumina, Hercules, Zen and Woof."_

_My face crumples up as the name 'Woof' appears. I've never heard of him or her before. What is this, two people just randomly appear up out of the blue, a woman and a baby, and the woman claims to know me, quite well by the sounds of it._

"_Woof? Who is he, and who are you, where do you come from, how come I don't know you?" I ask a flurry of questions, confusion fizzling all over me._

"_Kara," the woman says, looking shocked, "you know me. It's me hun, Cecelia, I've been a mentor with you in district eight for years!"_

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><p><strong>The End<strong>

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**For Now**

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><p><strong>AN: **Aha! Confused, huh? Well, you have a right to be. But I wrote this ages ago, like, 20 chapters ago, so I've been sitting on this huge Snev-style cliff-hanger for a while now. Anyway, all will be explained in the final third of the series (meh – who counts Falling For Him? That's kind of got abandoned as well)...

Final Strike.

I have a poster I made for it. I don't know how any of you will see it, but I have a poster for it. It's the thought that counts anyway. And no, that is not a reference to Zen's last name, as him being the final Strike. I just thought of that. Hey, that could be cool... anyway, I still have the links to put up. The link to Final Strike will come up sooner or later, when I eventually start it. Maybe this weekend? Anyway, I'll PM anyone who reviewed Shattered Hearts OR Gnawing Hunger the information, telling them that it's up and sending them the link. That should annoy them, but it should also work! ^_^

For the link just put 'h_t_t_p_:_w_w_w_._f_a_n_f_i_c_t_i_o_n (without the underscores) in front of each one.

Enter The Everlasting Black – The songs from Gnawing hunger re-sang but in different one-shots by different people in different circumstances. But all of the people have a connection to characters in Gnawing hunger.

.net/s/7011898/1/Enter_the_Everlasting_Black

The Realisation of Hunger – A collection of one-shots from Gnawing Hunger such as hidden scenes and ones from different people's eyes. I take requests of what to do!

.net/s/6918320/1/The_Realisation_of_Hunger

Falling For Him – The prequel to Gnawing hunger. "I, Marie Eyre, am getting married today. And I'm pregnant with another man's child." You only heard a brief glimpse about what really happened with Kara's parents. A tale full of deceit, lies, class division and forbidden love. Not to mention the hunger games. But some truths can never stay hidden...

.net/s/7071486/1/Falling_For_Him

Final Strike - The third in the Gnawing Hunger series. Kara Jaymond now is forced to face a terrible decision - sacrafice herself, and everything she believes in, or watch everyone around her's lives crumble into dust. Unfortunately for the Capitol, Kara Jaymond has never been one for playing by the rules.

.net/s/7545121/1/Final_Strike

Oh yeah, and don't forget to post your final review/ goodbye kiss to Shattered Hearts. Even if you haven't reviewed before or don't even have a fanfic account, just write something to say that you've enjoyed it so I know (and if you haven't then what are you still doing here?).


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